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A DUCAL SKELETON. 



wkLOlSE DURANT ROSE. 

Mercantile Library 

NEW YORK.. 



M3522G9 

F. TENNYSOTI NEELY, 

FUBLtSHSR, 

LONDCV4. NET YORK. 



TO V'VH y^TtV "~ 
J.rpF.AKY 



T5" ♦■ ir 

i \ ■ M . si ^ 






.•.-i" ' T 4 rD 



• • • _ • r ' 



Copyright, 1899, 

hy 

F. Temntbon NckiT, 

in 

United States 

and 
Great Britain. 

AU Rights Reeeired. 









•■ ••» • • • , * : 
• .. 









IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY FATHER, 

DR. THOS. C. DURANT. 



MERCANTiLf. Library 

NEW YORK. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 



PROLOGUE. 

Thb five o'clock express from London was 
due at the little station of Weymore; a gray 
November day had ended in a steady down- 
pour; only two figures were visible on the 
platform — ^the sturdy porter in corduroy, and a 
footman in mackintosh. The porter trimmed 
the lamp and hung it up where it blinked and 
darkened as the rain, wind-driven, reached it 
roimd the comer of the station, sending little 
rills over the platform where the roof ended and 
the outside darkness and wet began. 

** She's late," remarked the porter, referring 
to the express. 

"And she's in a hurry," answered the foot- 
man, referring to the Duchess of Beaulieu, for 
whom he was waiting. 

"She's never been up here before?" suggested 
the porter, understanding the allusion. 

"No, his lordship was not overanxious to 
have her grace around these parts." 



8 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

"He's a generous, free-hearted gentleman, 
whatever they may say;" this because of sun- 
dry tips received. 

A whistle and rumble, a flash in the gloom 
beyond, and the express was there. The duch- 
ess and her maid duly deposited in the carriage, 
the footman had to find another expected guest. 
Her grace was waiting impatiently, her slight 
figure upright, her face harder than usual. 
"What, to be kept here while her only son was 
ill — dangerously ill — waiting for whom?' ' The 
servant had apologized and hinted that no other 
carriage being available, they must take up the 
gentleman, too. Was this a time for friend or 
Hoon companion to be seeking his lordship? 
Let him have his revels when well; and the 
mother's mouth shut in a hard line. When 
she, the duchess, had to leave London and take 
a tedious journey in answer to a message from 
Lord Henry; when the knowledge that he was 
ill enough to need her, had armed each moment 
on the train with a hundred evil- fears to pierce 
her heart with their poignant dread; was she 
to sit and wait for any stray clubman? 

The door of the carriage opened; an apology 
offered for detaining her and the intruder is 
taking his seat. But all offense is swallowed 
in the fear his presence creates. It is no 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 9 

stranger, but Sir Julian Drayton, the court 
physician, who faces her. 

^'A consultation? and I not knowing the 
worst?" 

^^Let us hope for the best, your grace; my 
country confrere feared the responsibility of the 
case; his lordship's life is too precious to risk." 

''Then the danger is great?" She drew back 
in her seat, and Sir Julian saw but faintly the 
delicate profile and line of silver hair, and the 
plain black bonnet above; one hand still nerv- 
ously grasped the sill of the window, which 
was down. Without nothing was heard but 
the drip, drip of the rain and the wet thud of 
the horses' hoofs on the muddy country lane; 
the bushes near the lodge-gate brushed against 
the carriage as they drove into the grounds, 
and the grip on the sill grew more intense as 
the mother braced herself for the near meeting. 
''Oh, Absalom, my son! Absalom!" was the 
secret cry within her heart. Still, every inch 
the grand dame, she descended from the car- 
riage steps a moment later, and extended a 
hand in greeting to the local practitioner, who 
met the duchess and Sir Julian at the door of 
Lord Henry's house. The three entered the 
litnrary, and an anxious pause showed the duch- 
ess's control and the men's nervousness. Sir 



10 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

Julian was trying to read his conf vires face, 
while Dr. Moffat stood fidgeting with his 
watch chain, shifting the weight of his fat little 
body from one foot to the other. The quick 
tact of the duchess came to the rescue. 

'*Tou will wish to confer, gentlemen, to- 
gether, and you. Sir Julian, to see my son. 
Perhaps it will be as well that I should await 
your return from his room, lest my presence 
during your interview excite the patient, and 
distract your attention.^' 

The doctors, assuring her that this was just 
what they would have liked to suggest, took 
their departure. The housekeeper, Mrs. Black, 
appears with wine, and inquires what she can 
do for her grace. 

*'Is Sir Henry so much worse that his father 
had to be sent for?'* 

The housekeeper explained that Dr. Moffat 
was uneasy but hoped for the best. ^'His lord- 
ship is so strong and leads such an outdoor life, 
smrely he will soon be welL" 

And though the duchess felt the terror of 
death knocking at the very portals of her heart, 
she caught at the comfort conveyed in the 
words. 

"Tea, he was strong; her first bom, her only 
son, the pride of her life, whose faults seemed 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 11 

always half forgiven ere conf eased. " During 
the time of waiting for the doctor*s return, she 
recalled his last visit home, how restless he 
seemed, how little he had to say about his life 
in the north where by choice he lived, how dis- 
satisfied the duke had been with his heir wast- 
ing his days in mere pastimes, surrounded by 
friends and cronies when he might have entered 
the arena of political life and made a name 
among the men of the age. Her thoughts flew 
to the day before when the telegram summon- 
ing her to her son's sick-bed fastened upon her 
nerves like a bird of prey, full of ill-omened 
presage. His father had pooh-poohed the 
alarm: "What was a tumble in the field to a 
man like Henry? the doctor must be a frump; 
Henry should not be coddled; of course, the 
duchess was to go to amuse the invalid. She 
would die of ennui in that dreary neighborhood, 
so he would expect her back soon;'* and now 
Sir Julian and a consultation. She f olt like a 
prisoner awaiting judgment, when the door 
swimg back and the doctors' black coats crossed 
the threshold. Dr. Moffat a step behind the 
great London authority, left the burden of 
speech to his colleague. 

Sir Julian faltered in his message. As doc- 
tor, how easy to pronounce sentence; as gentle- 



12 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

man, how hard to face the pathetic appeal of 
the anxious eyes questioning his. Calling all 
her pride to the rescue, the duchess took the 
words from Sir Julian's lips. 

'^He is dangerously ill, I know; but is there 
no hope?" 

"Very little." 

"Have you telegraphed for the duke?" 

"We have." 

"May I go to him now?" 

"Yes." 

And she bore her head still bravely as she 
left the library, but a greater trial awaited her — 
the shock of seeing her strong, handsome son 
lying helpless and swathed in bandages and 
tossing in pain, and she impotent to relieve his 
suffering or stay the approaching enemy. He 
recognized her and seemed to want her near 
him. She took his hand in hers and together 
they waited for the end to come. Once or twice 
he spoke — ^just a protest against his accident 
and fate. The doctors and nurses came and 
went, but the duchess still kept her vigil. All 
her early married life leaped back through the 
intervening years, and she recalled the happy 
days when her boy toddled, strong and lusty, 
beside her, and her thoughts stretched to the 
gray morning in Egypt, centuries ago, when 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 13 

dusky mothers were wailing over their first 
bom slain. Toward morning Lord Henry 
opened his weary eyes and murmured : 

'^Mother* send them away; I want you 
alone." 

And when the two were left in the silence of 
the sick-room, he drew her hands close to his 
breast, and said . 

'^Oh, mother, forgive me for deceiving you, 
and when I am gone, be good to them." 

"To whom?" 

"To the woman I should have married, and 
my children. Mrs. Black will tell you where 
they are." 

Li this supreme moment of revelation and 
misery, the thought that a housekeeper knew 
the inner secrets of her darling's life, when she, 
his mother, had lived on in ignorance of such 
momentous facts, seemed to swallow up the 
stem significance of his speech. 

"Mother, mother I" and the dying man raised 
himself a little in terror at her silence; "have 
you no pity? My children — do vrhsA is right by 
them," and he sank back exhausted upon the 
pillows. 

"My darling, I will," cried the duchess, 
kissing him tenderly. 

He pressed her hand and smiled his thanks ; 



14 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

he was past speech. His mother, in agony, 
called to the doctor; they hurried to her side. 
A gasp, a flutter of the eyelids, and Henry 
Reginald, Earl Farraday, heir of the Duke of 
Beaulieu, was dead. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 16 



I. 

Strathways was the third and least attrao** 
tive estate which the twelfth Duke of Beaulieu 
inherited from his father, yet he and the duch- 
ess infinitely preferred it to his castle in Scot- 
land — a great, cold pile of gray stones, sur- 
rounded by vast domains of moor, and wood, and 
lochs, or to the sumptuous manor house of the 
midland counties. Sometimes the duke would 
arrange shooting parties and spend a few weeks 
in his northern home, and generally during the 
season he was to be f oimd for a short period at 
his mansion in Qrosvenor Square. The estate 
in the midland counties had been practically 
handed over to his eldest daughter, Ethel, who 
had married the clever politician, Sir Charles 
Layman. The best part of the year found the 
duke and duchess leading a quiet, humdrum 
life at Strathways in Dorsetshire. The man- 
sion itself was an unassuming, dull-colored, 
square building, standing in the midst of a well 
wooded park, which boasted a small lake and 
fine pheasant preserves. An Italian garden, 



16 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

with terraced walks, stretched in front of the 
house, commanding a good view of the sea, a 
mile away. 

It was here that Bertram and Beatrice, the 
duke's grandchildren, spent many happy days 
of childhood. To the girl the world began and 
ended at Strathways, the boundaries of the 
estate being the limit of her horizon; but the 
boy knew a beyond. He retained clear recol- 
lections of another home, where the days seemed 
colder, the flowers fewer, where a jolly person- 
ality presented itself to his young eyes in the 
shape of a tall man who ofteoi rode the boy on 
his shoulder and kissed the soft little face, and 
where he often went to sleep in the arms of a 
lovely lady; he knew that he called them father 
and mother, but that one day a strange lady 
appeared and took him and Trixie away to 
Strathways. At first he cried bitterly, but 
then the peacocks on the terrace proved consola- 
tory. Tears afterward he could recall the 
thrill of joy which ran through his childish 
frame when they dawned upon his vision in all 
their burnished splendor. Bertram soon learned 
that his grandmother did not like his allusions 
to the past, and gradually the images of his 
parents receded from his memory until their 
faces became misty outlines of a long ago. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 17 

As the seasons came and went, the children 
grew tall and strong, and though they were 
rarely taken outside the park gates, their little 
world afforded them endless variety of amuse- 
ments. They had their pets, their flower beds, 
their pony which they rode in turn or drove to- 
gether, wild flowers to gather in sprmg, nuts in 
autumn, and the excitements of skating in win- 
ter, when, accompanied by their grandfather, 
they were allowed to venture upon the little 
lake that proved a rendezvous of the county 
families for miles around during frosty 
weather. Indoors they devised a hundred 
different games in the room given them for a 
nursery. It was on the top floor of the house, 
a large, rather dreary-looking place with little 
attempt at decoration beyond the heavy cur- 
tains and gayly papered walls, but to the chil- 
dren it seemed a paradise, where all their toys 
and treasures were stored. They were always 
glad to escape to this haven of refuge from the 
duty hours spent with their grandparents, when 
they had to walk sedately or sit up straight in 
the CEmriage, or play draughts solemnly with 
the duke, who always wanted to win. Every 
evening he devoted a few minutes to catechis- 
ing the children as to their behavior during the 
day and gave them excellent rules for future 



18 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

good conduct. Bertram and Beatrice dreaded 
this ordeal and were glad, after an exchange of 
dutiful good-night kisses, to scamper away as 
fast as their young legs could carry them, scud- 
ding like little mice up the wide staircase that 
woimd from the great, square hall beneath, 
holding each other's hands to gain courage as 
they passed through the shadows of the turn- 
ings, while their grim-faced ancestors smiled 
down upon them from age-stained frames on 
the paneled wall. Though the duchess rarely 
bestowed a caress on the children, they realized 
and appreciated her affection for them and her 
efforts for their happiness. While they were 
busy with their pets or dug in their garden, she 
would generally take a stroll near by, stopping 
now and again to praise their work and calling 
them her two busy Bs. 

They were all together one summer morning, 
when Aunt Beatrice suddenly walked down the 
graveled path and said, ''Well, mother; still 
absorbed with the brats, I see." 

Perhaps it was on account of being thus des- 
ignated, or perhaps because, as Trixie told her 
brother, ''Aunt Beatrice always looks as if she 
was laughing at you," that the children took a 
dislike to her, a feeling which she heartily re- 
ciprocated. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 19 

She was the duke's second daughter, had 
married a wealthy old man, and now, as a re- 
ward of virtue, was a rich widow who divided 
her time between London in the season and the 
continent the rest of the year. She rarely came 
to Strathways, and her advent was always 
imannounced. 

^^I felt the need of a breath of fresh air,'' she 
would explain, ''and so have come to stay for a 
few days, if I may." 

The duke, who was rather fond of his hand- 
some daughter, rejoiced m these flying visits, 
but the duchess dreaded her caustic tongue. 
Lady Beatrice Milbanks had deeply resented 
the home-bringing of her brother's children, 
and expressed her opinion freely upon the sub- 
ject. 

The fact that the girl bore her name particu- 
larly rankled. 

*'What do you intend doing with those chil- 
dren when they grow up?" queried Lady Bea- 
trice, as she walked with her mother toward the 
house. 

''I suppose the same as other people do with 
theirs." 

"Introduce them as the well-beloved offspring 
of your late son and heir?" 

The duchess was accustomed to remarks of 



20 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

ibis kind from her daughter, and made no 
reply. 

At lunch, which was the children's dinner, 
they grew so confused under the criticizing 
scrutiny of their aunt that they dropped their 
knives and forks, spilt pudding on their pina- 
fores, and in various ways di^^raced them- 
selves in the duke's eyes, who forthwith admin- 
istered a severe rebuke. 

'^Really, papa, if you glare at those imps so 
ferociously, they will consider you synonymous 
with punishment, and by contradistinction, 
dub mamma ^Holiday.' " 

^'They realize the import of what you say; 
it is not wise," remarked the duchess. 

The children, having finished their meal, 
were lingering by their grandmother's chair, 
whispering a petition — could they go with nurse 
to the farm just outside the park gates? 

"Yes, if you don't chase the chickens." 

^*What do the neighbors say about them?" 
abruptly asked Lady Beatrice. 

^^My dear, little pitchers have long ears." 

'^And long legs," put in Trixie pertly, as 
she took her brother's hand and ran out of the 
room. 

^^Has a temper," remarked her aunt. 

^'Let us change the subject." 



A DUCAL SKELETON. SI 

'^Then tell me why you will p^sist in drees- 
ing like a dowdy; I assure you, TnamTna, that 
old prerogatiye of ducheeses is out of date. A 
few years ago when you drove in the park, you 
had only to pick out ,the ill-dressed, shabby- 
looking old dame to have spotted a duchess, mats 
nous avona changi toui did, there are three 
dowager dudiesses of Torrington now afloat in 
May Fair during the season, their ages vary- 
ing from fifty to eighty, and each outvies the 
other in youthfulness, and their gay plumage is 
the envy and admiration of all the old cackling 
geese and parrots of their set" 

The duke laughed. ^^You are right," he 
said; '^but I pr^er to see my wife as she is, all 
the same." 

At his words a faint flush enhanced the deli- 
cate coloring of the duchess. She drew a small 
black cashmere shawl around her shoulders and 
rose from the table. Her dress certainly was 
of the plainest fashion — generally black, re- 
lieved with a touch of lavender or gray, with 
lace cap and cameo brooch, and jet bracelets ; 
a small basket of keys, which she usually car- 
ried, completed tiie look of domesticity which 
invariably pervaded her. She was the conser- 
vative type of a bygone generation, the anti- 
thesis of her up-to-date daughter. Housekeep- 



22 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

ing absorbed a good part of the duchess' time. 
She kept the accoiints in the neatest of books, 
watched that there was no waste in the kitchen, 
and kept most of the provisions under lock and 
key. Even the caddy that graced the five, 
o'clock tea table in the drawing-room, was 
securely fastened between the hours when the 
cup that cheers but not inebriates was on duty. 
Lady Beatrice disliked her mother's petty 
economies. She felt it was chiefly owing to 
the influence of the duchess that there were no 
house parties at Strathways, and rarely any 
hospitalities shown to the county neighbors. 
As usual, she soon introduced the subject. 
They were on the terrace after lunch, the duke 
smoking an old pipe, the duchess knitting, 
while the peacocks noisily asserted their prior 
claim to the walk, as they strutted past the little 
group sitting in the shade, and in the sunlight 
beyond flaunted their spread tails. 

Lady Beatrice actually groaned. ^^And to 
think that you two are content to sit here a 
Darby and Joan, twirling your thumbs like 
two country bumpkins." 

"As a matter of record, we do not twirl our 
thumbs, and we might do worse than pose as 
Darby and Joan," remarked the duke, between 
pufiPs at his pipe. 



A t)UCAL SKELETON. 38 

''Thank heaven that lam a widow and a free 
agent," exclaimed his daughter, ''and have the 
continent upon which to expend my pent-up 
energies, where I can indulge a thousand 
whims, and England — ^this dear, respectable, 
staid, old island — ^to keep me in touch with 
British proprieties." 

"Beatrice, how you love to talk nonsense," 
mildly remonstrated the duchess. 

"It is plainly seen that your love of liberty 
and dislike of old-fashioned conventionalities is 
not inherited from yomr mother," commented 
the duke. 

"Every one knows you are a radical at heart, 
father, notwithstanding your adherence to the 
powers that be." 

"It is necessary to consider public opinion at 
times," returned the duke. 

"Bah ! public opinion, which represents con- 
ventional morality, is merely local, taking its 
form and color from its environments. Don't 
you remember in Montaigne's essay on customs, 
how, quoting from classical authors, he relates 
the most absurd and fantastic habits and man- 
ners of different nations, showing how widely 
apart lie the ideas of morality in different races, 
and declares that the laws of conscience, which 
we pretend are derived from nature, really pro- 



24 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

oeed from custom. Now, papa, if you were to 
set up a double menage^ it is quite probable 
that you would be kicked out of society and 
committed for bigamy, while the odium of your 
act would stick to your innocent and unfortu- 
nate family for the rest of its days; but if an 
Indian potentate adds a wife or two to bis 
harem, he pursues the evil tenor of his way 
with unruffled conscience, uncondemned by his 
social world." 

The duchess stayed her knitting; she was 
shocked. *' You would make one think you did 
not believe in ordinary standards of right and 
wrong," she exclaimed. 

The duke was amused; in the sober routine 
of life at Strathways, his daughter's bold speech 
certainly broke up all monotony. Still, he did 
not like to agree with her advanced ideas; 
sometimes they seemed to run away with her. 
His love of laying down the law brought forth 
the observation that worldlings who had not 
the courage of their convictions too often hung 
upon the nod of Mrs. Grundy before deciding 
what was moral and what was immoral; 
though, he thought, "under some circumstances 
the worthy dame's dictum was worth consider- 
mg." 

** Worth considering!" echoed his daughter. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 25 

"Her power is gone. Why, if St. Paul himself 
were to take a jaunt on earth again and visit 
the varied shrines which shelve our little 
tutelary gods, he would find presiding over the 
altar to morality a Janus-faced deity smiling 
and frowning at the same moment on different 
sets of devout worshippers, confessing the same 
sins." 

Here Lady Beatrice rose and yawned slightly. 
"I must write some letters and take a siesta, as 
there seems nothing else to do, and will join 
you for a cup of tea at five, and as to Mrs. 
Qrundy, after all, who and what is this elusive 
personality? Has earth, air, fire, or water 
produced this modem parody on the ancient 
Sphinx? No element would father or mother 
her; time admits her bare existence, but main- 
tains a scornful silence as to the whereabouts 
and wherefore of her birth. Our so-called fast 
society sets have sprung out of the terror of her 
reign, a revolt against overstrained conven- 
tionalism often resulting in unbridled license; 
the bow bent too far, snaps. When the typical 
British matron, wrapped in her unbecoming 
armor of petty insular prejudice, flushed and 
panting, jostles against a cool, extremely 
decolletS professional teauty, who remains calm 
and unblushing amid her display of physical 



26 A DUCAL SKELETON 

charms, the latter is simply a retaliation upoD 
the former. If ever there was a palpable fraud 
dominating the masses, it is this same Mrs. 
Grundy, whose creed nms "Thou shalt not be 
foimd out." 

As Lady Beatrice disappeared down the ter- 
race, the duke wondered in what new scrape 
his daughter was now involved* 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 27 



II. 

Bertram, though two years older than his 
sister, was gOTemed greatly by her opinion. 
Of the two, she possessed more self-will and 
obstinacy, and with this considerable beauty 
and a winning manner when she wished to gain 
a point. By nature, Bertram was more affec- 
tionate and good tempered. They lived healthy 
and consequently happy lives at Strathways. 
Except an occasional romp with the rector's 
children, who lived two miles away, they knew 
no young companions, nor missed them, until 
Lady Beatrice, on one of her .flying visits, put 
it into their small heads that they were lonely 
and cut off from children's society from some 
unmentioned cause — evidently not a pleasant 
one. The children consulted together. 

''It is because Aunt Beatrice hates us that 
she says horrid things always," asserted the 
girl. 

But the boy, in the superior wisdom of his 
ten years, pondered: *' There is some reason 
why she hates us, then; and there is another 



28 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

reason why, as she says, we don't play with 
any children except at the rectory." 

*' What children are there — ^those tow-headed 
little girls who live at Crofton? I donH want 
to play with them — ^they look too stupid; and 
the big family at the Willows, Bertie, you 
know we decided they seemed common," with 
a toss of her proud little head. 

^'But all the same they have never wanted 
us to play with them; I wish we could ask 
somebody to tell us why. Perhaps Fraulein 
Schneider might know." 

**She knows nothing but just her old German 
books," replied his sister contemptuously, for 
she did not rate the meek German governess 
very highly, principally because the good 
woman had no love of outdoor life and sports, 
while Trixie was a tomboy, and vied with her 
brother in running, jumping, and climbing 
trees. 

Their nurse, though devoted, seemed some- 
what out of the question. A bright idea struck 
Bertie: *'Let's ask Mr. Jewett; he'll know." 

Mr. . Jewett was the rector, and the sugges- 
tion meeting with his sister's approval, the chil- 
dren resolved to carry it out at the first oppor- 
tunity. Not long afterward an invitation came 
to spend the afternoon at the rectory. A troop 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 29 

of boys and girls met the pony carriage as it 
drew up at the old-fashioned house, and Frau- 
lein Schneider left her little charges surrounded 
by these playmates, who admired Bertie and 
Trixie immensely. It was Harold Jewett's 
twelfth birthday; the little host duly presented 
the new arrivals to the strangers, but among 
them one boy stared very rudely at Bertie and 
remarked, "What's your name?" 

*'I have told you, Bertram Beginald Sin- 
clair," said Harold quickly, instinctively feel- 
ing that his friend resented the boy's manner. 

'^How can it be Sinclair if he is the duke's 
grandson? Father says the family name is 
Farraday." 

Something in the tone of voice caused Bertie's 
fist involuntarily to double up; he felt a wild 
longing to punch the speaker's head. 

^'Oh, it's all the same," said Harold easily, 
anxious to avoid any impleasantness. ^^Come, 
see my presents," and he hastily led the boys 
away toward the house. 

Bertie dropped a little in the rear. The boy 
who had, as he felt, insulted him, was Andrew, 
eldest son of Colonel Tudor, who was enor- 
mously rich. He owned among other homes 
the Willows, a beautiful estate close to Strath- 
ways, but, as usual, the duke had not re- 



30 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

sponded very cordially to his neighborly ad- 
vances. Perhaps Trixie's criticism of the 
family was correct. 

If the impleasant little mcident had not 
occurred, most hkely Bertie, in the excitement 
of the birthday party, would have forgotten 
about his intention of interviewing the rector. 
But this recalled the burning question; he hesi- 
tated no longer, and while the others were look- 
ing at the gifts spread out in the schoolroom 
he stepped into the hall and asked a servant if 
he could see the rector. 

^'To be sure. Master Bertram; he's in the 
study," and Jane hurried on to complete prep- 
arations for the children's tea. At the door of 
the pastor's sanctum, the boy paused with fail- 
ing [courage, but his hand resting on the door- 
knob slightly rattled it and was heard, for Mr. 
Jewett's voice called, "Come in I" 

The child nervously entered, shook hands, 
and on being asked if he wanted anything, 
came to the point at once. 

^^ Please, sir, would you be so kind as to tell 
me something Trixie and I cannot under- 
stand?" 

"With pleasure, my little man, with pleas- 
ure;" and the Rev. Joseph Jewett leaned back 
in his chair, put the finger-tips of both hands 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 31 

together, and prepared to solve any theological 
difficulty this young visitor might propound. 

"Why does Aunt Beatrice hate us so much?'* 
said Bertie with simple directness; *^and why 
does she say we are lonely without playmates? 
And oh ! why did that Tudor boy say just now 
that my name should not be Sinclair?'' 

In his amazement and embarrassment the 
rector smoothed back his heavy gray hair, as if 
his brain needed soothing before it could at- 
tempt an answer to such mighty questions. 

Noticing the hesitation, Bertie anxiously in- 
quired: ** Can't you tell me, sir, about Aunt 
Beatrice, and why the Tudor boy seemed so 
positive?" 

*'Very rude of him, indeed, to make any re- 
marks," said the clergyman, catching at what 
seemed easiest to answer. "Of course, your 
name is Sinclair." 

"But why does Aunt Beatrice hate us, and 
seem to make out that other children might not 
want to play with us?" 

"What utter nonsense; you must have mis- 
understood," replied Mr. Jewett, wishing 
ardently that his wife were here to tackle the 
situation. He never had much to do with chil- 
dren, and their questions were so alarming; he 
piust quiet this rising curiosity, or what would 



32 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

his best patroD, the duke, say? "You may be 
sure that all children worth knowing will al- 
ways be only too glad to play with the duke's 
grandson, and that your aunt, Lady Beatrice, 
does not hate you, though in manner she is not 
always as gracious as the dear duchess." 

He paused, deeming this was enough, but 
the boy, still persistent, said: **Then you are 
sure, sir, there is no reason why any one should 
dislike Trixie and me?" 

"Tut, tut, child; get such foolish notions out 
of your head." 

Bertram drew a sigh of relief. * * We thought 
you would know, because grandpa said you 
were such a scholar." 

Much pleased at this last remark, the rector 
took the trouble to accompany his little visitor 
back to the other children, and took some pains 
to single out both Bertie and his sister, remain- 
ing with them awhile, though the knowledge 
that his next Simday's sermon still lay on his 
desk, hardly begun, weighed heavily on his 
conscience. He was a well-meaning man, 
wishing all the world peace and joy, but not 
blessed with keen insight into human nature. 
His sermons were scholarly, chiefly drawn 
from the Old Testament, but apt to be soporific 
on a summer morning. Mild and conserva- 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 38 

tive, bis sins were but tbose of omission. With 
pale blue eyes, peering tbrougb spectacles, a 
ruddy complexion and aquiline nose, and prom- 
inent f orebead surmounted by a shock of iron- 
gray hair, whicb tbe cbildreti pronounced 
woolly, bis somewbat odd appearance gave rise 
to bis possessing several sobriquets. At Stratb- 
ways be was generally mentioned as tbe para- 
dox, '^ Being in one botb sbeep and sbepberd," 
remarked Lady Beatrice, and tbe resemblance 
grew witb tbe years. It would bave distressed 
bim immeasurably to bave any cbild treated 
rudely wbile enjoying bis hospitality, and tbat 
one of tbe duke's grandchildren should be an- 
noyed was preposterous. He did not feel sat- 
isfied until Bertie's face lost its perplexed and 
troubled look. 

^* After all, it is only staving oflf an evil day," 
commented tbe rector to bis wife, later, when 
the last of tbe little guests bad departed. 



34 A DUCAL SKELETON. 



III. 



Trixie was highly indignant when her 
brother related the rudeness of Andrew Tudor. 
^^He is a horrid, common boy," she exclaimed, 
^^and I do wish you had punched his head." 

Bertie secretly rejoiced at his sister's voicing 
his innermost wish. Notwithstanding occa- 
sional tiffs, the two were devoted to each other, 
and though the younger, Trixie generally set- 
tled any vexed question between them. So it 
was she who started the idea of a hive, where 
the two busy Bs could himi by themselves to 
their heart's content. For many days the 
nurse was rampant with indignation at having 
to change their clothes whenever they returned 
from a ramble by themselves. They would 
come in wet and muddy and covered with bits 
of straw, twigs and moss, and looking any- 
thing but a duke's grandchildren, as she angrily 
remarked. At last, all reprimanding and coax- 
ing having failed to alter their ways, the nurse 
reluctantly complained to the duchess, who 
quietly investigated the matter herself and dis- 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 35 

covered the eause of the sudden untidiness. In 
the entrance to the wood, snugly hidden behind 
old trees, rose a most extraordinary structure, 
rudely shaped to resemble a hive. The lower 
part was made of dried mud and stones and the 
upper part of branches and bits of wood, the 
interstices being stuflfed with straw and moss. 
A small doorway had been made, through 
which the children crept and curled up in the 
stuffy interior of their beloved and laboriously 
constructed house. When the two culprit bees 
were unearthed, their first thought was for 
their handicraft. 

* 'Punish us, grandmamma," they cried 
simultaneously; "but, oh! don't pull it down." 

Their appeal touched the duchess, who prom- 
ised not to have the hive demolished, but put a 
veto upon any further play in it. 

The duke was annoyed and amused at this 
escapade. "What clever little beavers they 
are," he exclaimed on examining the work. 
"We shal 1 find the lake dammed next, unless 
we find other work to occupy those busy hands; 
and the duchess resolved to produce a substitute 
for the hive. 

After a subdued week, during which an in- 
tense air of penitence pervaded Bertie and 
Trixie, the duchess took them for a walk one 



V 



36 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

mommg and revealed among the sturdy 
branches of a giant oak, a little house built of 
small trees, like a miniature log cabin. It had 
a pointed roof, was completely covered with bark 
outside, and large enough to hold the children 
standing. They were speechless with delight. 

"And now, my dears," said their grand- 
mother, "with the carpenter's help, you are to 
make your own chairs and table, and what 
else you want for furnishing your tree house." 

Henceforth the busy Bs had plenty of manual 
labor to consume their spare hours, and "The 
Eoost," as they christened their new acquisi- 
tion, proved an unfailing source of delight. 
Here it was they were introduced to Sir Walter 
Scott and Dickens, and a host of other friends 
worth knowing. Here they discussed their 
troubles and pleasures and planned their 
futures. Bertram wanted to be a sailor and 
cruise in quest of all the famous lost treasures. 
Beatrice would own a farm and milk cows. 
What cared they for their aunt's sarcasm or 
rude Tudor boys, when they were actually 
householders and veritable denizens of the 
woods, companions to bright-eyed squirrels and 
sweet feathered songsters. They had built a 
platform extending outside their house and at- 
tached to this was a light ladder, which they 



/ 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 37 

could draw up into the branches and thus cut off 
all comnoiunication with the lower world to- 
gether with all the inhabitants thereof, excepting 
cats and gymnasts. They had b^ged the 
duchess not to reveal this new haunt, and only 
a favored few were allowed to visit it, Lady 
Ethel Layman among the number. She gener- 
ally spent a couple of weeks at Strath ways each 
summer and from the jBrst had won the chil- 
dren's hearts. She resembled her mother in 
face and manner, having the same low voice and 
dignified gentleness. When together the hard 
lines around the mouth of the duchess softened 
perceptibly. She smiled often and looked ten 
years yoimger during her daughter's visits. 

The tree- house had been in existence a year, 
and the busy Bs were preparing a small tea 
party, which included their dolls, a favorite 
kitten, two small dogs. Tiny and Tim, and 
last but not least, their loved Aunt Ethel. It 
was a balmy Jime afternoon, clouds tempering 
the sun's rays, and with a premonition in the 
air of rain for the evening. The duchess and 
Lady Ethel sat in the morning room, overlook- 
ing the Italian garden; below, on the terrace 
the peacocks were sunning themselves, uttering 
now and again a shrill screech of gladness. 
The duchess felt happy and at peace with the 



38 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

world ; her daughter's presence seemed to fill 
the room with light and music. 

''The person is waiting at the lodge for an 
answer, your grace." A servant had entered 
and is tendering a letter on a silver salver. 

Indifferently the duchess reaches for the note 
and breaks the seaL Glancing at the contents, 
she dismisses the servant; she will ring when 
the answer is ready. 

Lady Ethel looks at her mother anxiously; 
the delicate face has grown pale. A moment's 
silence and the letter changes hands. The 
duchess sits very still, looking out upon the 
garden below and the stretch of park beyond, 
and the blue sea in the distance, but her eyes 
are non-seeing. She is thinking of the dreary 
November night seven years ago, when she 
drove through the drip of the rain from the 
little country station to her son's deathbed, of 
the bitter end and the morrow when the duke 
arrived, stricken with grief and raging against 
the inscrutable ways of Providence, which 
snatched away in his prime the heir to a duke- 
dom. She recalled the scene that followed and 
every word; at first the husband's hot denial to 
her entreaty that the orphaned children of his 
son should return with them to Strathways, the 
outburst of wrath that there should be a blot 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 89 

upon the family escutcheon, the sullen silence, 
unrelenting and unforgiving; then, a little 
later, beside the pale corpse, the break-down of 
a strong nature and the passionate cry from a 
father's heart. Yes, his boy's wishes should 
be carried out to the letter. Lastly the walk 
in the cold gray morning, with Mrs. Black, to 
the dainty home nearby, where Lord Farraday 
had nested his unwedded mate, the pause on 
.the threshold, while the housekeeper entered to 
announce her grace's visit; the start of recogni- 
tion, when a pretty boy of four entered the 
drawing room, leading a round-eyed girl of 
two, who stared and stared with her bright dark 
eyes at the duchess, who saw again her own boy 
gazing at her from out of the dim distant past; 
and then the . pale, weeping woman, whose 
grace and beauty even great grief could not 
hide; the short parley, the reluctant assent to 
comply with the wishes of the dead ; the heart- 
rending cry of farewell, and then home with 
the duke and two unhappy little children, cling- 
ing to each other. 

Forgotten? No I In her letter the writer 
need not have asked the duchess that. Such 
phases of life can never be forgotten till the 
earth rattles on the coffin lid. 

"You will see her?" ventured Lady Layman. 



40 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

"How can I well refuse?" 

The children waited impatiently for their 
most important visitor. Instead a maid arriyed 
with a summons to the house. 

"Oh I grandmamma, what is it? and the kit- 
ten has stolen our cream, and Tiny skipped 
down the ladder, but she's not hurt; only 
frightened," rattled off Trixie, when she per- 
ceived a stranger in the room, a good-looking 
elderly person with gray hair, who was gazing 
at the children intently. 

"This is Mrs. Black, my dears," said the 
duchess, "and before she leaves England she 
wanted to see you both." 

"Because, your grace, I promised her I would 
see them." 

"But we do not know you," remarked Bertie 
in his terrible truthfulness, wondering why the 
lady wanted them inspected, "just as if we 
were to be photographed, or something," he 
told Trixie afterward. 

Mrs. Black's eyes filled with tears. "I knew 
you once, dearie," she began, when a look from 
the duchess checked her speech. She took each 
of the children's hands in hers and pleadingly 
said: "May I?" Receiving assent, she stooped 
and kissed Bertie and Trixie. 

"And she might as well have been called 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 41 

White, for she looks so white and her hair just 
matches her face," confided the boy to his sister 
and the pets when they were once more in their 
beloved ''Roosf "And oh, Aunt Ethel, hold 
on to the ladder, for it might slip." 



42 A DUCAL SKELETON. 



IV. 

" Pilate saith unto Him, What is truth? '^--John x. 88. 

Thb little church of St. Stephen's was 
crowded, the news that a young Oxford divine 
was to preach the morning sermon having 
brought out the parishioners in full force, and as 
the text was given out, all eyes turned toward 
the pulpit. In the Duke of Beaulieu's square 
old-fashioned pew sat Bertram and Trixie, their 
eyes fixed on the preacher, a slight young man 
with beautiful eyes and an orator's mouth. 
His sensitive face flushed as he looked down 
on the congregation : 

^^ Diogenes and his lantern! What a sight 
for all the little snobs if he suddenly dawned 
on their May Fair horizon." 

The opening sentence startled the devout por- 
tion of his listeners. The sermon certainly 
promised to be different from Mr. Jewett's 
learned disquisitions on Moab's rebellion or 
Manasseh's wickedness. The few backsliders 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 43 

who invariably dozed during the rector's 
homilies, moved uneasily in their pews. Could 
it be possible that they were to be defrauded of 
their customary forty winks? 

*^What would the ancient sage have to say 
to the crutch and toothpick tribe of fops? Noth- 
ing. Blowing out his light, he would swing 
himself down the nearest street and again take 
refuge in his tub.'* 

Lady Beatrice adjusted her pince nez and 
wondered whether for once the service would 
not bore her. She rarely occupied the family 
pew, her excuse being that the memorial win- 
dow representing St. Stephen's martyrdom was 
too atrocious. *' Fancy facing for two hours 
those raw reds and washy blues, with stones 
that look like badly baked pancakes. The 
saint's disgusted expression shows his opinion 
on the subject." But to-day even the crying 
colors of the window were overlooked. The 
young priest continued : 

**And we, who are not Diogenes — ^have we 
found one honest man? As a nation, are we 
made up of honorable, truthful souls? Do they 
swarm in business, or in the arena of politics? 
Take up a newspaper — hardly a day passes 
without a flaring accoimt of a defaulting cash- 
ier or swindling banker; the spirit of our mer- 



44 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

cantile age cries to get all you can — ^honestlyi 
or dishonestly; how few of the great fortunes 
acciunulated in the last twenty years that have 
not flecked or stained their maker's good name I 
Yet we welcome these men with open arms as 
long as they head our subscription lists and fill 
our churches. Let them but present a bland, 
stereotyped conventionality, seasoned by out- 
ward piety, and the golden means becomes for 
them the golden mean, for we do not condenm 
fraud and deceit! That keen sense of honor, 
once inherited from father to son 

** Through nine long centuries 
To hate and hound a lie/ 

has dwindled down, alack I to a mere protest 
against falsehood in general. When men had 
to fight, and often die, for every truth they 
held, its value seemed gigantic, but all is so 
intensely proven to-day that we lose oiur grasp 
on truth itself; her eflSgy we flaunt from the 
housetops, but deep must the well be and hewn 
out of prehistoric rock, that hides her in its si- 
lent depths. What is truth? Absolute sincer- 
ity of thought, word, and deed; the sense of 
other's rights being as sacred to ua as oiur own; 
to concentrate our souls upon being instead of 
seeming — but the tarnished thread of falsehood 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 45 

runs through all our golden woof of life. Chil- 
dren foreshadow it in their play; young men 
and 2[women enact it in their flirtations; age 
realizes it in the sharpness of business men, the 
contriving of managing matrons. It is the 
curse of our civilization that we live artificial 
lives, talk artificial talk, think artificial 
thoughts, wear artificially colored carnations 
in our buttonholes! Even our voices are 
trained to an artificial pitch — either an affected 
lisp or drawl, or a loud, discordant bawl assures 
the listener that the natural tones of the speaker 
are absolutely ignored. How much truth is 
conveyed in the handshake of to-day? Does a 
wiggle-waggle in the air inspire one with a 
sense of true friendship? A man's grip is the 
unwritten signature of attested regard.'' 

The preacher paused and Trixie pinched her 
brother to catch his attention, when she whis- 
pered: 
"Oh, Bertie! The Tudors wiggle-waggle!" 
This was said with a purpose, for since the 
days of Harold Jewett's birthday party. Colonel 
Tudor had induced the duke to exchange some 
slight hospitalities, m consequence of which 
Bertram had lost his heart to Andrew's pretty 
sister Hilda, much to Trixie's openly expressed 
disgust. The Tudor's pew was near the duke's. 






46 A DUCAI. SKELETON. 

and the young people often exchanged glances 
during service. The duchess had noticed the 
whisper; it annoyed her, and she gave Trixie a 
severe look, but before a rebuke could be ad- 
ministered, her attention was arrested by the 
preacher's next words: 

*'We never know the end of a lie; you cast it 
forth like a pebble into a smooth lake, hear the 
splash and for a moment see the spray whitening 
the blue bosom of the water, but what eye can 
follow the widening circles that spread further 
and further away in the distance? Tou salve 
your conscience with the thought that it is bet- 
ter for the sake of loved ones to be deceitful 
upon some vital point, but what is your wisdom 
against the might of naked truth? Be sure, if 
it exists, concealment is only defying the pur- 
poses of a wise Deity, who, for unfathomable 
reasons to our finite souls, permits sin and sor- 
row to enter each earthly paradise. All we 
poor Adams and Eves will ever find the fruit 
of the tree of life bitter to our taste, and we 
would fall prone in the dust, whence we have 
sprung, were it not that the loved tones of a 
Saviour tell us not to despair, for He is the 
Truth as well as the Way and the Life. Ah ! 
verily, even at our best, we byt see through a 
glass dimly now — but then, face to face with 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 47 

our neighbor and our God, with all our little 
quibbles laid bare in the light of Heaven, we 
diall know even as we and our petty deceits 
and white lies are known." 

To one listener swift remembrance of a white 
lie came with the stem recognition of the truth 
of the preacher's words. "And yet," thought 
the duchess, "I did it for the best, adhering to 
my promise to the letter; but when we meet 
face to face, will he blame me for this lie? Yes, 
we see but through a glass darkly now, and 
the light at times seems beyond our sight." 

The rest of the young clergyman's discourse 
was lost upon the duchess, who pondered over 
the vexed question raised by passing words in a 
sermon. The preacher waxed more and more 
eloquent and riveted Bertram's attention, whose 
candid soul responded to the fervent appeal 
from the pulpit. Lady Beatrice thought she 
admired the stranger's mouth and a faint 
curiosity stirred her to a desire to meet him. 
The duke approved of the sermon, which lasted 
barely half an hour, and. devoutly hoped Mr« 
Jewett would profit by such a good example, 
and shorten his Old Testament homilies. 

"Who is he?" asked the duchess, after serv- 
ice. She was standing near the porch, waiting 
for the duke, who had gone to find the rector. 



48 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

*'His name is Herbert — the Rev, Paul 
Herbert," answered Colonel Tudor, who made 
a point of hovering near his ducal neighbors on 
all available occasions. 

The next moment her grace was wondering 
whether she was pleased or annoyed to see her 
husband returning with the young clergyman. 
The introduction was followed by an invitation 
to Strathways, and Bertram had the extreme 
pleasure of sitting next to Mr. Herbert at 
luncheon. 

^'As clergymen go,'' remarked their Aunt 
Beatrice, *'he is quite a decent sort." 

Even Trixie condescended to pronounce her 
august approval on him. She was at that awk- 
ward age when a girl's mind is as angular as 
her legs and arms, and men and boys found 
little favor in her eyes, though she still stood 
in wholesome awe of her grandfather and 
evinced a strong affection for her brother. The 
masculine portion of their neighbors she criti- 
cised with the intolerant spirit of the very 
young. Mr. Jewett himself had no influence 
over the child, who, when talking of him to her 
brother, dubbed him a "milksop." The boy, 
though not partial to the rector, felt that the 
little shaft of contempt shot far off the mark. 
Having outgrown Fraulein Schneider's capac- 



A DUCAL SKELETON. - 49 

ity, the duke had handed his grandson over to 
Mr. Jewett. For over two years Bertram had 
daily tasted of his new teacher's erudition, mas- 
tering the rudiments of the classics, and safely 
crossing thepons asinorum, and knew himself 
to be an ignorant lad skirting on the very out- 
side edge of knowledge where the sheep-faced 
clergyman had already both feet firmly planted. 
Lingering after lessons, he culled much that 
was curious and interesting from the rector's 
library, or from the worthy man himself, and 
gradually learned to digest somewhat ponder- 
ous fare and to assimilate it with ordinary liter- 
ary food, and consequently flavor his conversa- 
tion therewith. Now, for the first time, meet- 
ing a young man fresh from Oxford, Bertiam 
gleaned a sheaf of new opinions. He hung 
upon the Rev. Paul Herbert's words and 
flushed with pleasure when the divine cordially 
clasped hands at parting, with the hope that 
they would meet again. Harold Jewett, in re- 
turn for a burst of confidence, informed Beiv 
tram that unless the house burned down, or 
acqidents crippled him for life, he was going to 
Oxford with the guineas his father was saving 
toward that end. 

'*Then why can not I go?" cries Bertram. 

His friend thinks there is no reason to pre-^ 



50 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

vent, and suggests that the duke be sounded on 
the subject. With eager steps, the lad invades 
his grandfather's sanctum. He leaves with 
dampened enthusiasm. It was neither no nor 
yes with the duke; only a waving of the theme 
into an indefinite background. Perhaps Ber- 
tram was not deemed clever enough to do honor 
to his name. The lad squared his shoulders. 
^'I will work; grandfather shall see what stuff 
has been inherited.'* 

Mr. Jewett noticed the spurt and wondered. 
The Farradays, as a race, were leal men and 
true to king and church, but none had ever 
been scholars; was the bar sinister to infuse 
higher learning into the blood? Odd if the 
irregularities of the sire were to produce the 
regular heartbeats of a pedant in the son. But 
the love of sport was a strain crossing the best 
bred Farraday, and this lad promised to inherit 
the grit of his forefathers; he was strong for 
his age, and a lover of outdoor life. No, a 
scholar, maybe, but never a bookworm to the 
exclusion of manly sports. 

To add to his guineas, the rector had still 
another pupil, an overgrown dunce, nephew to 
Colonel Tudor, whose fists had felt the brows 
of many a village lad, and who was given to 
rat-hunting and dog fighting. The dul^e h^ 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 51 

not smiled on this companion for Bertram, but 
reflected that he could not always keep his 
grandson wrapped in the cotton- wool of home 
influences ; his eyes and ears and nostrils must 
test the sights and sounds and scents of the outer 
world one day. Better let a little of the sulphur 
fimies tickle his organs now while yet within 
reach of the reaction of Strathways. Harold 
Jewett*s influence, however, more than balanced 
any that Dicky Tudor might have exercised over 
his fellow student. Though not even confess- 
ing it to himself, Bertram shelved the rector's 
son in his heart with Trixie. Young Jewett 
was a healthy, hearty specimen of an honest 
Anglo-Saxon lad, with a keen, sympathetic 
nature, and admired his friends so openly they 
perforce responded to his warmth. For months 
after the new pupilis advent, no cloud obscured 
the rectory s^. Then, without premonition, 
came a bolt from the blue. Over what at first 
was a mere wordy squabble, both Bertram and 
young Tudor lost their tempers^ The phrase 
"Dickey birds' chirps are more bucolic than 
classical," roused a latent hate in the bosom of 
the colonePs nephew for one more favored than 
he. 

Quid pro quo — ^** Dickey birds were at least 
better received than '* 



52 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

Bertie flashed out one word, *'Liarl'* 

"Ask the county; not a butcher's brat but 
knows the history of your adoption.'* 

Harold Jewett instinctively laid a hand on 
his friend's shoulder; they exchanged glances. 
Something in the elder lad's face made his com- 
rade shiver, with a vague apprehension of 
undefined sorrow. He grew pale; his arms fell 
to his side. 

**If this is true, I fight you to-morrow for the 
taunt; if false, for the lie," and without daring 
to read further in his friend's eyes, Bertram 
strode down the high-hedged lane, now white 
with blossoming May. The dust beneath his 
tread was as heated ploughshare to the martyr 
of old, so painfully lagged each leaden foot, so 
weighted was his whole being with the deaden- 
ing thought, blotting out blue skies and blithe 
spring sunshine. Like a suppressed cyclone he 
burst upon the solitude of the duke at his writ- 
ing table, already planning a shooting party for 
September at his Scotch castle. 

"Grandfather, what of my parents? Tell me 
the truth." 

"I told you long go, "When scarcely more 
than an infant, you lost them both." This was 
said rapidly to stave off the questions read in 
the boy's himgry eyes. 



A DUCAL SKELETON, 68 

"I know 80 much — but the rest — '* the young 
voice faltered. 

"What rest?" Yet the duke knew, 

**0h, grandfather! they say the worst — ^that 
my mother '* 

"Was a devoted woman. She lost all in los- 
ing your father." 

"But was she — did he '' 

The words would not come. The duke 
turned his shaggy brows toward the lad. "My 
dear," and his tones grew almost gentle as a 
woman^s, "whatever wrong was done was 
deeply rued — ^and repaired to the best of our 
powers." 

"Then it is true— all truel" The world 
seemed to stand still with horror at the unveil-, 
ing of this steely fact. 

"Bertram, recollect, this is your home, and 
our love is yours ; be brave, my dear boy ; being 
our acknowledged grandson will prove your 
open sesame. Be a true Englishman, and he 
who will not welcome you will not welcome 
me." 

Later the memory of the duke's words was 
balm to a stricken heart, but then with the 
gorgon headed truth staring at him, the lad's 
soul froze within him. What matters all he 
heard after his grandfather's first admission; 



64 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

kind sentenceB glided off his stony self like 
raindrops off the gilded vane above the church 
steeple. 

At last free to seek relief in self -communing, 
Bertram is on the terraced walk bent for the 
wood's deepest recess. His sister's laughing 
jarred him back to a sense of duty. Trixie I 
The blow falls on her too — but not now; no, 
this trial must not be shared yet. 

"Bertie — ^whither away?" and linking her 
arm in his, they wander on into the green 
shade, she rattling on with gay nothings, 
thinking her brother downcast, he making 
supreme efforts to mislead her astuteness. 
They reach the "Boost" and ascend in silence. 

"What troubles you, dear?" 

"Good news proves too much to carry at 
times " 

"Good news for you — oh! tell me, Bertie." 

"Grandfather has just told me I am to go to 
Oxford," and to express his satisfaction at the 
attaining of supreme wishes, to Trixie's sore 
amazement, Bertram laid his head on her shoul- 
der, and for the first time since early infant 
days, wept bitterly. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 65 



V, 



"You will not go?" 

"Of course I shall." 

"You will regret it, Sinclair.** 

"Not I." 

Harold Jewett sat on the wide window seat 
overlooking the High. The rooms had low 
ceilings and uneven floors, with one step down 
into the bedroom. The mantel shelf boasted 
some carving, and the place wore a typical 
Oxford air, intermingled with a flavor of 
Strathways. Here and there home photographs 
and a few pet pictures brightened the somber 
walls. A tobacco jar on the table between the 
two friends furnished Bertram the occupation 
of rolling cigarettes. A card bearing the in- 
scription "Lottie Blank, 35 Carew Boad. Tea 
at 5 o'clock," lay near the tobacco jar. 

"Bates is going, and a lot of jolly fellows.'* 

"You know my opinion of Lord Bates and his 
crew. Don't get yourself associated with that 
set at the very beginning of things." 



66 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

^'Hang it all, Jewett! can't one meet certain 
men sometimes, without being in their set?" 

"One thing will lead to another." 

"In the meanwhile I go to inspect female 
charms at 5 P. m., and drink an innocent cup 
of tea." 

"I beg you earnestly not to go, Bertie." 

But the influence of the one friend weakened 
under the strong combination of coUege life and 
a host of new acquaintances. 

"Did you never meet any amiable Lotties at 
festive tea tables, Harold?" responded Sinclair. 

"I have been differently situated than you 
are; the knowledge that every penny saved 
toward landing me here meant a grind for the 
mater and pater ^ changed most temptations' 
rosiest hues to leaden colors. Besides, I shall 
have to work for my living, and unless Oxford 
means great gain to me, morally as well as in- 
tellectually, I had better twirl thumbs at 
home." 

"Seeing life is not ever identifying one's self 
with sots or rakes." 

"Seeing life might include a study of archi- 
tecture as well as teacups. Come and inspect 
St. Mary's with me." 

* * Not this morning. ' ' 

"This afternoon, then — on the Char, in a 
punt." 



i 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 67 

**I am with you there." 

Harold knit his brows as he regained the 
street. His year at college had brought its 
lesson, and he would save Bertram from drift- 
ing into ways and company that meant the sap- 
ping of life and purse. Lord Bates had already 
earned the reputation of sowing more wild oats 
than any man of his set, but to press Bertram 
too far would savor of the ''prig. It would be 
better to let him go his gait alone. Still, there 
was Trixie to consider — proud, wilful, beauti- 
ful Trixie, who, budding into regal woman- 
hood, caught and held Harold's loyal heart. 
He knew his fate before entering college. The 
boy's admiration had developed into the young 
man's devotion, but, like the most timid bump- 
kin, he dared not sound his lady's regard by so 
much as a sigh in her ears. Trixie had made 
him promise to help Bertie to prick his way 
through the besetting college days. Her eyes, 
now melting, now defiant, had thrown him re- 
minders from jthe photographs' around Ber- 
tram's rooms. But how avert what the Bates 
crew sought to precipitate? Suddenly a lumi- 
nous idea flashed solution, and a walk to Iffley 
brought content through a note sent by the after- 
noon post to the Rev. Paul Herbert. 

Fearing to jar his friend, there was no allu« 



68 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

sion to the tea, though Bertie frankly acknowl- 
edged he had not found it interesting. Nor did 
Harold venture more than a passing suggestion, 
of disapproval, [thrown out tentatively when 
Sinclair proposed to give a ''breakfast" to Lord 
Bates and half a dozen kindred spirits. But no 
inducement could add Harold to the invited 
guests. Having condemned the promised feast, 
he would not share it. But below the blue 
flower floating in the college cup, Harold be- 
held more than the sparkling nectar. He knew 
that the longing to be acknowledged an equal 
urged his friend to outvie those whose purse 
and credit were more elastic than his own. 
Though the keen anguish of learning the truth 
about his own parentage had softened with 
time, Bertram was still sensitive to all touch- 
ing on social status. The ice once broken, the 
subject had been thrashed threadbare between 
the friends, as it was impossible to discuss it 
with Trixie. Jewett caught at the duke's 
words. Of course, no lad need dread the future 
with an acknowledged ducal grandsire as a 
background. 

For several seasons Bertram had been in- 
cluded in the duke's parties to Scotland. 
There, within the castle's gray walls, or out 
with gun upon the purple moors, he had learned 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 69 

to hold his head high amid his grandfather's 
guests, and to deport himself as to the manor 
bom. This served as preparation to Oxford. 

Since young Tudor flung the ill-savored taunt 
in Sinclair's face and gleaned a whipping 
thereby, no one had twitted or seemed to twit 
Bertram with the stain upon his birth. The 
knowledge of it often slept, but never died in his 
heart. A burning sense of the wrong inflicted 
by his father sometimes flashed forth in sarcas- 
tic speech. His mother's image but conjured 
up tenderest emotions; had she not sacrificed 
herself? So Harold knew much of what was 
passing in his friend's mind. He waited until 
sunset and sauntered up the High to find Sinclair 
at his window, flushed from the parting glasses, 
the rooms scented with tobacco, the fumes of 
the cup still clouding his brain. 

It was no moment to moralize. Let it pass. 
But on the morrow, Bertram, with headache 
and empty purse, bemoaned his fate. 

"I had to do it in style, confound it! The 
breakfast has about swallowed up my ready 
cash." 

"If I were not poor, you would be welcome 
to share with me " 

**No, no; I make my bed and lie on it. The 
breakfast was a success. I dance and pay the 



60 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

piper, which means economy for the rest of this 
month and fresh resolutions for the next." 

Harold chased away a cheery little thought 
that buzzed about his brain like a blithe bee; he 
did not wish Bertram to know that a certain 
letter had been written and answered, and 
feared some news would shine in his eyes and 
be read. His silence was misinterpreted. 

'^You deem me wasteful of a good duke's 
gift?" 

"Come, come; we'll not discuss, with a rare 
sky overhead and a breeze abroad worth breast- 
ing; let us take a long walk." 

"I need some air to sweep away the cobwebs 
these metaphysicians weave round my senses." 

Twenty-four hours later Bertram burst into 
Jewett's room in Worcester, and, taking the 
book his friend held, tossed it aside, crying : 

"A truce to your dry dominies, when we 
dine with a living one to-night. He has writ- 
ten to you to expect him, and yet my oracle 
gave no signl" 

Harold laughed, and tipping his chair back, 
stretched his arms, with a glance at the gardens 
below. When an innocent secret lies hidden 
behind honest lids, it is best to lower them be- 
fore the inquisitive gaze. 

"The unexpected, when agreeable, should 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 61 

never be anticipated by commoplace disclosures. 
Paul Herbert is delightful — his advent here 
doubly so, when unnanounced." 

** Think of it, Jewett; we three powwowing 
over beer and cider in pewter and plate, when 
welcome awaits him at every college, with 
sherry and port in silver and gold, the heads 
only too glad to sport their best behavior in 
honor of such a guest I" 

"But you are a duke's grandson!" and 
Harold's blue eyes twinkled. 

Bertram's smile answered the twinkle: "If 
a coal-heaver's grandson, he would do the same 
if he liked you." 

"Therefore by all logical deduction, you are 
liked by our friend. Bertram, you are a lucky 
dog;" and Sinclair's star was in the ascendant 
that day, for at dinner a surprise awaited the 
young men. Paul Herbert had another guest 
— a dean, worth meeting, with invitations on 
tongue-tip to a charming Oxford home, where 
wife and pretty daughters dispense graceful 
hospitalities. The worldly advantages accru- 
ing from the clergyman's visit were augmented 
next morning when he introduced Bertram to 
some clever young fellows who were working 
m dead earnest. When the train bore Paul 
Herbert out of sight, he left a dozen channels 
open for his yoimg friends' energies. 



62 A DUCAL SKELETON. 



VI. 



"Worcester College, Oxford, 
"Dear Trixib: Do not imagine my silence 
due to the lethean influence of Oxford air. 
However dear college life is to me, my ambi- 
tions and hopes are but tame^doves that wing 
themselves home gladly, while Bertie's aims 
and endeavors are eagles and fain would pierce 
the blue. My thoughts are ever with the dear 
ones at the rectory and at Strath ways, but my 
liege lady's parting words were * write to me of 
Bertie,' and it would hardly have edified her to 
chronicle such details as these: Item B. ate a 
good breakfast and unpacked boxes, ate a fine 
limch [and took a stroll, disposed of excellent 
dinner, and smoked and loafed with me till 11 
P.M. Item, ate another large breakfast, hung 
up photographs and pictures, etc., etc. The 
first settling down to new hours, new rooms, 
new associations, are merely interesting as the 
text of the discourse to follow. 
^'Besides, Bertie has been penning you sheets 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 63 

Of descriptions of his surroundings and first im- 
pressions of our Alma Mater. As you seem to 
constitute me a sort of bodyguard to Bertie, I 
felt my position onerous when he ran across the 
Bates' crew. I mentioned Lord Bates to you 
once, and know you do not favor his theories. 
Of course, these goblins pounced upon Bertie. 
I shook my head in vain, and might have wob- 
bled it off my shoulders for all your beloved 
brother cared — not that a few weeks from you 
and home would depreciate the worth of affec- 
tion in his eyes, but new influences were tread- 
ing on each other's heels so fast that mine 
seemed out of date and of less importance. 
Just as a little black imp of chagrin began to 
whisper discouragement in my ear — presto! 
change. The imp was displaced by a look from 
those wonderful gray eyes we once sat beneath 
at St. Stephen's. 

"Enter Paul Herbert, exit the imp forever. 
Bertie must have told you of the pleasure we 
experienced meeting this pearl among men. 
His white soul peeps forth through those mar- 
velous eyes, and the delicate lips but open to 
drop rubies of speech, which glow and glow, 
and are worth a king's ransom. I have had 
the pleasure of seeing him several times on his 
visits to Ojidfprd before Bertie came here, and I 



64 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

told you of my day at Honesdale, where he 
reigns supreme in his parish and home. His 
people are from the north ; they followed him 
to his work. Such a dear old mother, and 
sweet, gentle sister, his elder by several years. 
It takes less than an hour by rail to Honesdale, 
and Bertie is to be his guest next week and will 
tell you of his visit. I know it will give you 
pleasure to hear that the Bates' crew have lost 
their grip already. Paul Herbert introduced us 
to Dean Stanfield, and his charming home circle 
captivates Bertie's stray hours. Hilda Tudor is 
surely displaced by the pretty daughters — be 
calm, there is safety in the society of three 
equally fascinating girls, and they but initiate 
your hero into the higher mysteries of harmless 
flirting. Through our good dominie we also 
met some Baliol men, who are cormorants for 
work. Of course, your brother responded when 
appreciated by new clever minds. Now he fre- 
quents the debates at the xmiversity and will be 
on his legs for a maiden speech before we have 
time to turn about. May you be there then to 
hear him. May you likewise honor us by yoiur 
gracious presence during the Eights' week. How 
often I urged upon you the charm of Oxford 
gayeties, but a friend's plea carries less weight 
with you than a brother's. Now that Bertie 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 65 

will add his voice to mine, perhaps kind fates 
will waft you here before the long vaci^tion. 
My affectionate duty to the duke and dear 
duchessy and pats for your canine companions. 
Write to me, dear friend. 

"Yours ever, 

** Harold Jewbtt." 

**149 High Street. 
**Trixie, Dearie: Tour letter eyes me re- 
proachfully from my desk. Beply should have 
reached you sooner, but so much has come into 
my daily work and play. First, to answer 
your questions. No. 1. *Did the lunch go off 
well?' Swimmingly, as regards consumption of 
well-cooked viands and deliciously brewed 
cups; haltingly, as regards the deplenished con- 
dition of my exchequer the next morning. Lord 
Bates and his friends profited by a sumptuous 
meal, which I am rueing in sackcloth and 
ashes. This for your ear alone. No 2. *What 
new friends have I made?' Three Baliol men, 
who are worth a college full of the ordinary 
fellows here. We sit in my rooms or theirs, or, 
better still, in dear old Harold's, overlooking 
that lovely garden at Worcester, and talk and 
talk> till the affairs of nations are threshed 
threadbare. Romanism is a red rag to Jew- 



66 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

ett; for the rest, he is the least excitable of us 
all and holds his own with the cleverest. Did 
he tell you of his speech the other night at the 
Union Society debate? I was so proud of him. 
If I can ever do half as well, instead of modestly 
hiding my light under a bushel, I si all flaunt 
my talent forth in the eye of day, like our pea- 
cocks their tails on the terrace. Next, a de- 
lightful dean with ideal wife and three daugh- 
ters, but they have neither your carriage nor 
figure, Trixie, and all this I owe to the most 
unselfish of men — Paul Herbert. Don't you 
remember how glad we both were to hear of 
him when Harold first came to Oxford? 
Though this brick of a clergyman stayed only 
twenty-four hours here, he foimd time to launch 
me upon the dean's domestic current and con- 
stitute me a comrade to the Baliol fellows. I 
am to visit Honesdale and the Herbert family 
next week. How I wish you could be with me 
then; you must come for the Eights'. I will 
write to grandmother and you must plead pret- 
tily to grandfather. How much we can enjoy 
together. Paul Herbert is worth a journey 
alone to meet. He hf ts one right out of com- 
monplaces into strong, clean thoughts, and yet 
withal is so full of kindly interest for all one's 
little pleasures and foibles. The dean's circle 



A DUCAL SKELETON, 67 

will please you, too, and we will give jou a tea, 
and invite our picked men to do you homage. 
Dear sister, think of it ! Christ church to admire, 
with Hall and Kitchen inimitable, and the 
Broad Walk beyond I the solemn beauty of the 
cathedral; St. Mary almost opposite my rooms, 
and the exquisite window at New College, and 
the service at Magdelene with singing to ravish 
the senses, and the peacefulness of a stroll 
through Addison's walk afterward; or a row 
on the Thames to IfSey, or punting on the 
Cherwell; or we can drone over the precious 
manuscripts in the Bodleian, or the Turner 
drawings at the Taylorian; or we can wander 
through the college gardens, each so full of 
charm. Of course, Harold swears by his, and 
truly the Worcester garden is most beautiful. 

^^I am almost forgetting your next question 
^How about music?' I am going to join one of 
the societies here and peg away at my songs in 
spare moments, and anticipate the college con- 
certs. As to my work, it fluctuates; but fear 
not, sister mine, I shall be ready for my kittle 
go.' 

^'Your last question need not have been 
penned— * Do I miss you?' Surely your soul 
cries, ^Yes.' I am fascinated by this new life 
after the long, hermit years at Strathways, but 



68 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

beneath the surface flutter of collegiate pulse-' 
beats, a heart throbs for those at home. I 
write to grandmother next week. My love to 
all, including the dogs. How are the ponies? 
*'Your affectionate brother, 

^^Bbrtbam Sinclair." 

"Strathways. 

*^ Dearest Bertram: Paul Herbert is a 
trump! and so is Harold. My love to the lat- 
ter and tell him to write again, and I will an- 
swer some day. Lord Bates is my bete ndir. 
I dreaded at first he would become your *old 
man of the sea. ' Drop him by degrees, lest he 
strangle much good in you. 

"Of course, I will use my small powers to 
urge my elders to our way of thinking. May 
the gods second my efforts and post me to Ox- 
ford in due season. In the meantime, don't 
imagine me drowned in melancholy, and green 
with envy. Great thmgs are happening. It 
seems like a dream, but pinching proves me 
awake. My trunk is packed, and I am going 
away. Where? you cry, surprised. Patience! 
sweet sir. After your departure they all tried 
to console me. Grandfather gave me a sound- 
ing kiss and the information that I was to have 
a new habit. Grandmamma confided that my 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 69 

room was to be refitted at last, and Aunt Ethel 
put her arms around me and carried me off for 
a walk. I was cross as a bear and ^x>ured forth 
my woes. How it jarred to see gi^ndmamma 
wearing such shabby clothes and locking up the 
tea caddy three times a day. How I wished I 
was a man or could have lots of money and 
travel; you know what I am when started on 
that tack. Aunt Ethel listened but said little. 
Aunt Beatrice's advent last week enlivened 
things slightly and I forgot having crawled out 
of my shell the day you left. Judge my aston- 
ishment when yesterday I was told to pack my 
clothes, as Aunt Ethel was going to carry me 
off to-morrow, and the fairy tale does not end 
here. This visit includes the county ball I 
Bertie, dear, can you realize that your Cinder- 
ella has actually found her fairy godmother, 
and the pumpkm is a glittering coach? Only 
the • rince is lacking. I do not bewail his ab- 
sence — quite the contrary, shall dance all the 
heartier and save my glass slippers at that. I 
will write from Thomycroft. If only you could 
be at the ball ! Aunt B. glares at me as though 
my small social debut meant her a personal 
injury. Tell me all you do, and hear, and 
read, and see, and think. 
"The dogs are well, except Rover, who hurt 



70 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

his foot running — ^nothing serious. Ponies 
frisky and the elders so-so. Grandmamma 
does not seem quite so well these days. Aunt 
B. gets on her nerves. Oh, Bertie I I can 
hardly sit still with the word *hair buzzing in 
my brain. My feet beat time to the unplayed 
music. Fairy godmother is calling. Au re- 
voiVy dearest and best of brothers. I will only 
dance with the old county families. No 
parvenus for me. 

"Tour loving sister, 

"B." 

*• Strath WAYS. 
"Tour note, dear Sir Disdainful, followed 
close upon the heels of my arrival. Of course, 
we must arrange early for an Ascot party, and 
Lady Bell and her shadow, the yoimg poet, 
shall be on the list, as suggested, but beware 
her wiles I Ah, you laugh ; yes, I hear you — 
but lay not this flattering unction to your soul. 
I could not be jealous if I tried, but the golden- 
wigged little lady is capable of much malice — 
once pay her attention, and you are her servant 
in public forever and a day and she will cause 
you to rue any slackened fervor. My visit 
promises the usual deadly dull routine, but 
thank heavens, need not endure more than five 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 71 

days. Ethel is here, en grande evidence, ab- 
sorbing my mother, until one can almost read 
the words *Za place est prise* in her trium- 
phant expression. Bertram has at last bloomed 
forth as an undergraduate at Oxford, and the 
other bud is blossoming as acknowledged niece, 
making her first social bow at the county ball, 
with Ethel, who carries her off to-morrow to 
Thomycroft. I am wondering what induced 
Ethel to take this step — why go out of one's 
way for an illegitimate niece? It is bad enough 
to possess one. But the Lord only knows why 
she should be flaunted in the world's face. I 
am writmg near the window, to catch a glimpse 
of the sea and be inspired thereby, but, unfor- 
tunately, I never am inspired to order. Be- 
sides, cold salt water at a distance is less vivi- 
fying than the tiniest glass of sparkling 
Cliquot. By the way, what an elastic old hum- 
bug that * Veuve' is. Think of the sham 
apotheosis of common grape juice under the 
borrowed glory of her name. I forgive her— 
or them, or it, or whatever circulates lying 
labels, when they mean for you a golden nec- 
tar. I take this to the post myself, so no curi- 
ous eyes may read the address in my bold hand- 
writing, 'Sir Lester Barristable, Bart., St. 
George's Club, London.' I can hear the hue 



7% A DUCAL SKELETON. 

and cry. The worthy duke exclaims : * What 1 
correBpond with a man who spends twice as 
much as he owns!' The good duchess cries: 
*AIas! intimate with a man whose name has 
been linked with Gaiety girls?' and mild Ethel 
mturmmrs: * Are you two trying to be engaged 
indefinitely?' and my heart answers, *A poor 
man or a rich man, a devil-I-care-man, no mat- 
ter what manner or sort, since we love each 
other.* Alack, my Lester, why are you not 
rich? Or why do I need more than my income 
permits me to spend? Still, the world will 
wag spite of our souls' wishes, and we must 
wait till the fickle goddess smiles on us before 
we are one in name as we are in all else. 

**Tours in trust, 
** Beatrice." 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 73 



VII. 

Tbixie dawned upon her cousin's horizon at 
Thomycroft like a veritable fauy princess. 
She had not seen the children since the six 
trooped into the playroom at Strathways one 
memorable morning, when they arrived en 
masse to spend some days with their grand- 
parents. There were five girls and a boy, who 
was the yoxmgest in the family. The eldest 
daughter was sweet and shy with her seventeen 
years, blue eyes and fair hair. Her mother 
was not going to introduce her in society for at 
least two years, so Trixie felt quite elderly be- 
side this quiet cousin, though only a few 
months older, and came out of her dreams and 
solitude to the happy chatter of six young peo- 
ple who perforce warmed her nature and stilled 
the sarcasm which, caught from her Aunt Bea- 
trice, too often burned on her lips. A busy 
week sped, golden days full of sweet nothing, 
strolls, drives, and above all, the united energies 
of the girls on the question of chiflfon, for a new 
dress had been ordered for the ball. Trixie 



74 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

often looked back upon that week as a respite 
— a little moment of breathing before the sirocco 
blast left her for a while panting breathless on 
the sands of life, and she wondered [if she had 
fully appreciated the kindly atmosphere of 
home affection which enveloped her. 

On the eventful night, when Trixie sailed 
downstairs with a little flush of anticipated 
pleasure on her cheeks and her eyes sparkling 
like black diamonds. Sir Charles Layman 
thought that any parent might be proud of such 
a daughter. He had not entirely responded to 
his wife's wish of chaperoning the girl, but her 
personality had made itself felt, and notwith- 
standing a certain wilfulness, he felt attracted 
toward his handsome niece. Trixie, in the 
midst of her elation, could not help noticing 
that her aunt ignored the fact of this being the 
girl's first ball. She simply introduced her as 
* ' my niece who is staying with me. * ' For some 
undefined reason, Trixie resented this. It was 
the first thorn in her wreath of roses that night. 
She had just begun to fill her programme, after 
having had a half-dozen men presented to her, 
when a voice at her shoulder made her almost 
drop her fan and flowers. 
"Harold! and how did you get here?" 
"By the train — slightly too far to walk from 
Oxford.'' 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 75 

Trixie made no attempt to conceal her pleas- 
ure and surprise at the unexpected meetmg. 

"Yoiur college authorities must be exceed- 
ingly accommodating/' 

'^Do you think I would have missed being at 
your first ball, Trixie?" he whispered. 

Of course, it was all nonsense, but she could 
not refrain from a girlish thrill of pride at the 
knowledge the words conveyed. For three joy- 
ous hours Trixie footed it with the fleetest, and 
many eyes turned a second time to watcji the 
graceful figure and slender white throat, around 
which was clasped a string of pearls, the duch- 
ess' latest gift. Had not her mirror, nor the 
frankness of her young cousins, yet betrayed to 
Trixie the happy truth that she was beautiful 
that night, the admiration expressed in Harold's 
eyes would have told her. Toward the end of 
the evening, Trixie and Harold wandered into 
the conservatory; she was leaning back in a 
chair, fanning herself slowly, and wishing the 
ball could last indefinitely; her partner had 
gone to get her an ice, when bits of talk floated 
to her ears from adjoining rooms, at flrst vague 
words so disconnected that she heard them 
mechanically without attaching sense to their 
import. Presently she heard her aunt's name, 
and without intending to play at eavesdrop- 
ping, caught straggling sentences. 



76 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

"Yes, rather a fine-looking girl." 

^^But I am surprised at Lady Ethel all the 
same.'* 

^'I suppose if the duke and duchess acknowl- 
edge them, there's nothing to be said." 

^' Still, I am not going to ask her to my dance 
next week; it might be awkward for my girls, 
you know, in London next season." 

"Her mother was his cook, or housekeeper, 
or something, wasn't she?" 

"No, my dear; I think she was a variety 
actress.'* 

"Anyway, one thing is positive; they never 
had even the benefit of Gretna Green." 

"Fancy naming her after her aunt. Lady 
Beatrice Millbanksl" 

" What a stiletto for that lady's side!" 

When Harold rejoined Trixie a moment 
later, he found her standing with one hand 
resting on a chair and the other nervously 
grasping her fan and programme. One glance 
at her pale face and he exclaimed : 

"Trixie, you are ill; what can I do for you?" 

"Take me away from here, Harold; I en- 
treat you." 

In the sma' wee hours of that night, Lady 
Ethel sat ensconced in her favorite bedroom 
chair, in close confabulation with her husband. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 77 

"Think of such a climax to a girl's first ball," 
moaned Lady Ethel. 

"Best at a ball, where she at least has her 
little girlish triumphs to console her." 

"But the worst of it is that Trixie refuses to 
be comforted. I know that she is now in her 
room, breaking her heart; what is to > done, 
Charles?" 

The wife's eyes were beseeching a solution 
to her difiiculties. Sir Charles Layman tugged 
at his gray mustache and knit his brows with 
annoyance. He personally resented this idle 
talk of the ballroom, thinking that the prestige 
of his wife's favor should have shielded any 
guest of theirs from open comment. Below his 
breath he was anathematizmg the two gossips, 
who had been easily recognized from Trixie's 
curt and sarcastic description, for, as she left 
the conservatory, leaning on Harold's loyal 
arm, her innocent white debutante dress had 
actually brushed the somber satin folds of the 
two matrons. 

"What is to be done, Charles?" repeated 
Lady Ethel. 

The masculine mind, having reviewed the 
situation, issued this fiat: "Gertrude must an- 
ticipate her coming out by two seasons 1" 

"But how will that assist Trixie?" 



78 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

"Give a ball for Gertrude during her cousin's 
visit here; let Trixie receive with her, and for- 
get to invite those two scandalmongers." 

And so it came about that demure little Ger- 
trude was unexpectedly launched upon the 
county society, with all the freshness of her 
seventeen summers forming a charming con- 
trast to the brilliant beauty of her dark-eyed 
cousin. Trixie, appreciating her aunt's un- 
spoken efforts to heal her wounded pride, sum- 
moned all her courage to dominate with her 
youth and beauty whatever odium society 
might cast at her through the stigma of her 
birth. 

Thornycroft, en fite^ with Lady Ethel and 
Sir Charles Layman dispensing hospitalities, 
brought all the county to the ball, save two 
elderly tabbies, who sat at home with their 
tribe of unmarried daughters, bewailing the 
luckless chatter which had chained their girls' 
feet to the parental parquet, while eligible elder 
sons were whirling more favored damsels. 

To the duchess, in alluding to this episode. 
Lady Ethel wrote: "Trixie will not discuss the 
matter with you; she is bearing it bravely, 
though I see that the sting still rankles. Let 
her have another change when you can." 

Therefore the haphazard gossip whidireached 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 79 

Trizie's ears at her first ball not only gave her 
a second ball and even more brilliant introduc- 
tion into society, but landed her in the Oxford 
Eights; much to the delight of the two knights, 
whose anticipations of her success were more 
than realized. 

Though not willing to confess it even to 
himself, Harold felt an inward pang of dissat- 
isfaction at seeing how easily his lovely lady 
held court among all his friends. Both he and 
Bertram had noticed a slight change in Trixie's 
manner toward them. Though scarcely tangi- 
ble enough to pass comment upon, it was there 
from the moment she stepped out of the railway 
coach with the duchess, who had accompanied 
her from London. Dean Stanfield, hearing of 
the intended visit to Oxford, had prevailed with 
her grace to allow Trixie to accept his hospital- 
ity. So, after gladdening the young men's 
hearts with a fliying inspection of their rooms, 
the duchess left her granddaughter with the 
motherly Mrs. Stanfield and her lively girls. 
It was not until they were actually on their 
way to the river that Bertram had a chance of 
a Ute-h-Ute with his sister. They had gone 
ahead of the rest and were sauntering down the 
Broad Walk. He wondered how he would 
probe her, and if this subtle change arose from 



80 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

any trouble gleaned at Thornycroft. Harold 
had related the incident of Trixie's unaccounta- 
ble retreat from the county ball, and not having 
the keynote to the situation, her devoted knights 
were unable to guess the truth. 

**Some love affair, perhaps," thought Ber- 
tram, glancing at the handsome face beside 
him. 

"Are you not keeping something from me?" 
he asked at last, tentatively. 

"What secret could I have from you?'* But 
the eyes belied her lips. A flash of intuition 
became revelation. 

"Oh! Trixie, so you know, too — when — 
how?" 

"AtthebaU." 

"Tell me all, dearie." 

The tenderness in his tone broke down flood- 
gates within her. His sister poured forth in a 
torrent of words all she had repressed for 
months. Bertram's sympathy was balm to 
her sore spirit; she heard with interest the 
account of his first knowledge of their parents' 
love and folly, but all her brother's philosophi- 
cal remarks fell short of their mark. She, 
seemed bitterness personified in petticoats. 
Bertram remonstrated : 

"Because some of the juice was squeezed out 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 81 

of your orange is no reason to think that it is 
sacked dry and only fit to be pitched into the 
gutter. Life still offers its golden fruit, fresh 
and round, for you to hold. I wish you would 
talk it all over with Harold; he helped me 
through many a dark hour.'' 

"Not with him, Bertie; he's too near home; 
but I did think of Paul Herbert." 

**He, too, was much to me; he will give you 
thoughts to treasure; he is more wonderful 
than ever, Trixie. Do you remember how we 
raved over him the first time he flashed across 
our existence?" 

She had not forgotten, and was pleased when 
her brother suggested arranging a meeting be- 
tween them. In the midst of hard work, the 
clergyman responded, and was rewarded by his 
exertion to gratify Bertram by the pleasure he 
experienced in renewing acquaintance with 
Trixie, but was struck with the. attitude the 
girl took in the matter. She seemed deter- 
mined to draw compensation out of society for 
certain rights defrauded her and openly de- 
clared her one ambition was to secure money 
and position and snap her, fingers at the world 
after that. Paul Herbert, with his wide tolera- 
tion of people's prejudices and foibles, sym- 
pathized with the cause that prompted such 



82 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

feelings, but urged their uselessness. '^Altru- 
ism and honest Christian philanthropy is worth 
more than gratified pride and worldly ambi- 
tions." His magnetic manner made itself felt. 
Trizie gazed into his dark gray eyes and knew 
truth was there; the tones of his clear, ringing 
voice chimed truth and nothing but truth. His 
slight, tall figure seemed too frail for the mas- 
sive soul it bore. The man was an embodiment 
of enthusiasm, and mind over matter was the 
text his personality preached. 

Perhaps it was Paul Herbert's advent that 
precipitated Harold's wooing. He felt out of 
tune when Trixie's spirit seemed to sing in 
unison with his friend's, and the knowledge 
that the burden of her parents' fault had 
reached her own young shoulders, made him 
long ardently to share her each and every sor- 
row. The night before she left |[Oxf ord there 
was an informal dance at the dean's. Trixie 
was the pride of the evening; Harold watched 
her stately beauty, with a lover's worship in 
his honest blue eyes, as she leaned on his arm 
and he felt her sweet warmth near his breast, 
while her breath softly fanned his bummg 
cheek. Prudence unfolded her wings and fiew 
away. His whole soul aflame with a great 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 83 

love, he told her what she half surmised, and 
with passionate appeal asked that their future 
lives should be one. He put his all to the test 
— and met with blankness and despair. Trizie 
curtly and emphatically refused him. 



84 A DUCAL SKELETON. 



VIIL 

Strathways lake had been frozen two days, 
but the duke, having tested the ice, considered 
it still unsafe to venture upon, and cautioned 
his gamekeepers to notify the neighbors who 
might come to the park with the expectation of 
skating. A light fall of snow had powdered 
the ground and glistened m the morning sun as 
Bertram walked through the woods on his way 
to inspect the lake. Trixie for a wonder was 
not with him, having gone to try a new horse. 
It was Christmas week, and Bertram felt par- 
ticularly in tune with the season. He was at 
home to remain indefinitely until the duke de- 
cided some plans for his future career. 

His college days were already a delightful 
dream of the past; he had quitted the univers- 
ity with honor and made many warm friends 
during his college days. As Bertram passed 
the ^^Boost" he smiled and sighed to see its 
dilapidated condition, with a piece of the roof 
caved in and a little pile of .frozen snow at the 
entrance to the tree house, where he and Trixie 
had spent so many happy hours. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 85 

*'If the ice would only hold," he thought, 
' Ve could try it this afternoon and have some 
of the girls and Harold down from the rectory.'' 

Reaching the edge of the lake, he was sur- 
prised to see a female figure in the distance, 
skating across the lower end. He walked out 
a few yards and decided that the lake was un- 
safe, when he made signs to the stranger, who 
was skating with apparent unconcern, but she 
took no notice and glided oS. toward the center. 
Bertram then shouted to her to come ashore, 
but she apparently neither heard nor saw him. 
'* There will be an accident," he exclaimed, 
''and what on earth is to be done then!" As 
he spoke, the lady seemed to realize her danger, 
for she turned rapidly around and began skat- 
ing toward the bank where Bertram stood. He 
renewed his warning, which she heard, and as 
he watched her approach, with some anxiety, 
the catastrophe he expected happened. There 
was an ominous crack; the slight figure flew 
forward and fell; by the time she had recovered 
her feet, the gap had widened and the dark water 
of the lake almost entirely encircled her. Ber- 
tram started with dismay, but his gallantry in- 
stinctively prompted a rescue. Walking out 
cautiously, with the ice bending beneath his 
feet, he neared the gap. 



86 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

^^Come carefully as near as you can to the 
edge,** he called out. "The longer you wait, 
the worse it will be.** 

"But what can I do then?'* 

"Jump before the break widens; the ice is 
more solid on this side and I think will support 
both of us, and I will catch you.** 

Though evidently much alarmed, his listener 
followed instructions, and a moment later he 
had his arms around a pretty, finr-trimmed 
waist, and was dragging a young lady of con- 
siderable beauty toward the shore. In jumping 
she had broken the edge of the ice and one little 
foot slipped into the water. They scrambled to 
terra firma^ where Bertram deposited his fair 
incognito. Shivering with cold and fright, she 
gasped her thanks, but emphatically declined 
the eagerly oflEered hospitality of Strathways. 

"But you will never be able to get home in 
this condition,** he remonstrated, wondering 
where she lived. 

"Oh, it's only a short distance, and a slight 
wetting and fright will not hurt me; it was my 
own fault in evading the duke*s orders; I had 
heard at the lodge that general skating was 
prohibited until to-morrow, but fancied that ice 
which could not bear the weight of the county, 
might be able to hold — me," with a little pause 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 87 

before the last word and a childlike laugh that 
sounded to Bertram like the silvery cadence of 
a wild bird's note. 

He was so absorbed with this unexpected 
apparition of daintiness, with the melting blue 
eyes now flashing upward with beseeching 
glances, now veiled by silken lashes, with the 
delicate coloring of the Mignon face, with the 
hair that glinted like burnished gold beneath a 
fur cap, the little tip-tilted nose and the milk- 
white teeth, that he stood in absolute silence 
for a moment, lost in contemplation of so many 
charms. 

Recalled into the actual present by the con- 
sciousness of thanks being poured into his ear, 
he hastily cut her short by saying: 

"At least allow me to escort you part of the 
way home." 

"I could not think of troubling you further; 
it is only a step from the gate," came the quick 
reply. 

'*Your steps must be unusually long ones," 
said Bertram, with a smile of superior knowl- 
edge of the fact that the nearest post town was 
two miles away and the pretty stranger cer- 
tainly did not come from any of the nearby 
estates. 

Translating the smile, she laughed in an- 
swer, *'Tou have forgotten Clovermead." 



88 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

'^Is it let at last, and are you living there?" 

'*Weare/' 

^'Then we are near neighbors, and I shall 
have the pleasure of seeing you again." 

*'0f course, we shall meet again; the world 
is small." 

^'And here you are sitting still, takmg cold," 
he said, with solicitude in his voice, bom of the 
new interest he suddenly felt. "You ought to 
be running about and keep warm." 

He had taken off her skates, and stood hold- 
ing them in his hands. She tossed her head 
coquettishly: 

**You are quite right," rising to her feet, 
and r^aining the skates, ^'so again thank- 
ing you for your kindness, I will run away 
home;" and suiting the action to her words, 
before he could recover from his surprise she 
had started off on a run. 

However much Bertram might have wished 
to prolong the conversation, he felt that under 
the circumstances it would be difScult to pur- 
sue this fleeting Diana; besides, Clovermead 
would never close its doors against any one from 
Strathways. Of course he would see her again, 
and shortly too, he hoped, and with this consol- 
ing reflection, he returned to the house to find 
his family already at luncheon. The Bev. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 89 

Mr. Jewett, having dropped in for a morning 
call, had been persuaded to break his fast 
again, and was retailing the current news of 
the county, to Lady Beatrice's edification, who 
had suddenly decided that she needed a country 
Christmas, and invaded the parental domains 
with a cart-load of boxes and a clever Italian 
maid, pronounced a treasure by her mistress 
because she was a bom coiffeur^ but who to the 
staid Scotch servants represented the Bed 
Woman, with a flavor of Lucretia Borgia in 
her subtle Italian grace. 

In answer to a chorus of inquiries as to 
why he was so late, as promptness was the 
order of the day at Strathways, Bertram 
modestly related the story of the unknown lady 
and the broken ice. 

"Clovermeadl" exclaimed the rector. "Of 
course, he had forgotten to tell that it had been 
rented for a term of years to Captain Maitland 
and his family. They liked the place but were 
complaining already of lack of room. The 
house was not very large and the family seemed 
|jo be overflowing.*' 

Bertram was wondering which member he 
had met, and rather consciously began asking a 
description of the ladies, when Lady Beatrice 
quenched his inquisitiveness by leveling her 



90 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

lorgnette at him and inquiring ^'by what num- 
ber on his list this fair damsel would be repre- 
sented." 

Bertram, with the sensitiveness of untried 
passion, resented as something almost sacrileg- 
ious this flying shaft of ridicule, directed at a 
budding sentiment. He joined in the general 
laugh, but carefully eschewed further allusion 
to his recent encounter with one of the new 
neighbors. He did not wish prosaic badinage 
to dim the oriole which encircled tliis already 
idealized adventure. In Trixie's eyes, at least, 
her beloved Bertram loomed up as a small hero, 
and she felt sure he had not emphasized the 
risk he had run in rescuing one of the Mait- 
land's household. To satisfy herself on that 
point, she induced the duchess, at an early day, 
to leave cards at Clovermead. The ladies were 
not at home and Trixie lost the sought-f or op- 
portunity, but within a few days the visit was 
returned. Trixie again, to her regret, missed 
seeing their new neighbors. She and Bertram 
were ofif on a long tramp. When they returned 
Lady Beatrice, who had received the'Maitlands, 
as the duchess was not feeling very well, was 
so tantalizing and confusing in her description 
of the "Maitland avalanche," as she denomi- 
nated their guests, that Bertram, with the new 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 91 

admiration filling head and heart, was shy 
about asking particulars, but hearing that he 
had been cordially invited to Clovermead, lost 
no time in setting his doubts at rest as to the 
identity of his heroine. 

He had heard that the family consisted of 
Captain and Mrs. Maitland, their children, and 
an unlimited supply of Mrs. Maitland's unmar- 
ried sisters, who made Clovermead their head- 
quarters, as their parents were dead. Captain 
Maitland's father was a great friend of Sir 
Charles Layman; hence the link with the 
Beaulieu family. The grounds of Clovermead 
were extremely pretty, boasting endless shady 
walks and picturesque arbors; the old orchard 
reached down to rare pasting lands, where cat- 
tle browsed knee-deep in richest grass and 
clover. The house, an unpretentious, rambling 
edifice, had been evolved by its original owner 
from its first narrow limits to the present 
dimensions very much as a child builds a card 
house, by adding a floor here and a room there. 
It had been dismantled and practically unin- 
habited since the death of its owner ten years 
before, and Bertram felt surprised at its 
metamorphosis. The gray, cobwebby effect 
of an untenanted house had vanished under the 
painter's touch and housemaid's broom, while 



92 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

the whole place was bright with the yivifying 
influence of feminine minds. He was gazing 
round the long, low-ceiled drawing-room and 
wondering whose the influence which had filled 
the rooms with grace and beauty, when a sil- 
very voice at his elbow startled him, and he 
turned and found a pretty white hand extended 
in greeting by the lady who had filled his 
thoughts for the past few days. 

For the first time Bertram regretted his hesi* 
tancy in ascertaining more exactly which of 
Mrs. Maitland's sisters he had rescued. The 
next moment all was forgotten in the pleasure 
of finding himself actually in close conversa- 
tion with this most charming of women. She 
was arrayed in an unconventional but most be- 
coming gown of silver gray plush, ti^mmed 
with rich fur. A curious Oriental girdle clasped 
her slim waist, which Bertram wondered he had 
had the audacity to touch. She was such an 
absolute contrast to his splendid, statuesque 
sister that no comparison could be drawn be- 
tween them. Hitherto most of his admirations 
had fiickered up and died like a fiash in the pan 
when their objects were confronted with Trixie's 
radiancy. He did not attempt to analyze his 
feelings, but gave way to the mere sensuous 
enjoyment of the moment under the influence 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 93 

of this enchantiDg personality. The little lady 
sank back among the cushions of the ottoman^ 
showing the prettiest foot and ankle in the 
world. They talked of their first meeting, of 
their neighbors and though a third person could 
hardly have cavilled at anything that was actu- 
ally said, yet there was the unspoken entente 
cordiale between them which quickened Ber- 
tram's pulses and caused his dark eyes to shine. 
The clock seemed bewitched and marked an 
hour before Bertram realized that even a few 
minutes had passed. Just as his elation had 
reached its topmost bent, a tall, military look- 
ing man entered the room, and his companion 
rose and placidly introduced him : 

^'Let me present you, Mr. Sinclair, to my 
husband. Captain Maitland." 



94 A DUCAL SKELETON. 



IX. 

Mrs. Jewett was sorely disappointed to 
find that the flower of her flock had not realized 
his mother's fond anticipations. From the 
trend of his youthful thoughts she had always 
pictured him as the successor of his father in 
St. Stephen's pulpit, but after mature delibera- 
tion and many earnest talks with the Bev. 
Paul Herbert, Harold had concluded that the 
ministry was not his vocation. His books on 
theology were replaced by the materia medica 
and all his energies were directed toward be- 
coming an ardent disciple of Esculapius. Ber- 
tram, who had followed his friend's career with 
great interest, was glad to feel that after a 
natural phase of depression and melancholy, 
following upon Trixie's refusal, Harold's 
healthy mind recovered its elasticity, and to all 
intents and purposes, he was his normal self 
again, absorbed in his work, hearty in his play, 
for both he and Bertram were keen at all out- 
door sports. 

With the inconsistency of a young woman 



r 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 96 

still unversed in the ways of the world, Trizie 
secretly resented the sudden calm which suc- 
ceeded the tempestous passion that at one time 
seemed to threaten the upheaval of Harold's 
philosophical existence. Her brother had writ- 
ten to her very plainly upon the subject when 
he had ascertained the truth from his friend, 
after her departure from Oxford. In answer- 
mg her brother's letters, she ignored all refer- 
ence to the matter, and gradually he ceased to 
mention it. By the time they all met again, 
Harold had successfully matured his plans and 
was full of enthusiasm for his prospective work 
in London. He had made many friends while at 
college, among them a son of the eminent court 
physician. Sir Julian Drayton. On more than 
one occasion Harold had been able to render 
signal services to young Drayton, who was not 
very strong, either physically or morally, and 
the son's appreciation of Harold's kindliness 
had reached the father. On a visit to London, 
Sir Julian recognized the strength of Harold's 
nature and began to take an interest in the 
yoimg man's ambitions, and when Harold was 
about to attempt the thankless task of opening 
an ofSce without having first obtained the nec- 
essary practice, he was surprised and over- 
whelmed by an offer from Sir Julian to begin 



96 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

practice under him. If anything could have 
reconciled the rectory with the change in 
Harold's intentions, it was the knowledge of 
his successful entrance upon life. 

Though Trizie did not regret hei decision, she 
experienced a certain thrill of satisfaction in 
knowing that she had been and perhaps still 
was, the object of Harold's admiration. See- 
ing him the center of his family's adoration 
and realizing how well he stood in the esteem 
of Strathways, she felt that an offer of marriage 
from such a man could only have been taken as 
a compliment. Harold was at ^the rectory, en- 
joying a short home-coming at the time the 
little episode on the ice occurred. When Trixie 
at last met the Maitlands at an informal even- 
ing at Strathways, she could not fail to notice 
the marked efforts made by the captain's pretty 
wife to absorb Harold's attention, and how her 
unmarried sisters posed and preened their 
plumage with a determination to please, worthy 
of the eldest son of a lord at least; but then, 
Trixie admitted to herself, Harold was cer- 
tainly a fine specimen of English manhood, 
with his admirable physique, standing six feet 
two in his stockmgs. Bertram, who had not 
seen the fascinating little chatelaine of Clover- 
mead since he beat a hasty retreat from her too 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 97 

charming presence on discovering that Captain 
Maitland had married the youngest and pretti- 
est of the five sisters, did not regret her open 
preference for Harold Jewett's society, for it 
distracted Trixie's keen discernment from his 
own embarrassment, which he feared would 
be visible to the little circle. Mrs. Maitland's 
attitude toward himself was easy nonchalance 
which made him wonder if he had been a fool 
to dream that any other construction but that of 
bon cameradie could be placed on her manner 
toward him at their last tMe-di-tSte, and when a 
few days later he saw her driving with Dickie 
Tudor in his smart tandem, Bertram became 
convinced that he had exaggerated the state of 
his own feelings and was depriving himself of 
innocent pleasure when refraining from visiting 
Clovermead. As frosty weather still continued, 
there had been some reunions on the Strath- 
ways lake and Bertram had watched Mrs. 
Maitland' s5t;eZfe figure flitting by in her jaunty 
skating costume, and jealously noted how the 
masculine portion of the community seized 
every available opportunity of flocking to her 
side. One afternoon, as he was meditating 
how to approach her without attracting atten- 
tion, she darted away from the group of skaters 
and skinmied lightly over to where he was cut- 
ting a solitary figure eight, remarking saucily: 



98 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

**Well, Sir Doleful; what have I done to 
offend your highness?'* 

Her jolly manner dispelled the last doubt in 
Bertram's mind. For answer he took her hand 
and skated with her to the other end of the 
lake. So swiftly they flew, she could hardly 
catch her breath to remonstrate against being 
carried off from her various escorts. Before 
they returned, she had invited him to spend the 
next afternoon with her at Clovermead, slightly 
emphasizing the fact that it would be very kind 
of him to take pity on her '.loneliness, as the 
whole family was deserting her for the day. 

Before Harold rettuned to London, he experi- 
enced a vague feeling of uneasiness about Ber- 
tram's intimacy at Clovermead. Mrs. Mait- 
land's high soprano voice sounded so well with 
Bertram's tenor, and the frequent little im- 
promptu musicales necessarily followed nu- 
merous private rehearsals. With four un- 
married sisters in the house, it seemed absurd to 
cavil at a yoimg man spending much time in 
their society, particularly when there was little 
else in the way of amusement at that season. So 
Harold smothered the new-bom fear, resolving 
that it should nevor see the light of day unless 
Trixie, with the quick intuition of affection for 
her brother, sounded the first note of suspicion. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 99 

As the winter montEs passed there was more 
gayety than usual in the county. Easter fell 
early that year, and the young people were 
arranging some theatricals for Clovermead dur- 
ing Easter week. Of course, Bertram and 
Trixie were to take part, but the latter found 
herself cast for a play including many char- 
acters, while her brother was to act in a short 
sketch, in which he and Mrs. Maitland figured 
as the hero and heroine. 

It was just about this time, when the crocuses 
began to show their colors above the brown 
earth, and the snowdrops raised their timid 
heads in Strath ways woods, that a breath, a 
whisper, became common talk with the first 
scent of spring. Who first touched the treadle 
of Dame Gossip's spinning wheel, or who spun 
the first threads of the little rumors, history pro- 
claimeth not. A small strand here, a small 
strand there, and soon a substantial yam was 
spun. 

In the olden days our great-grandmothers did 
not disdain to twirl the distaff or tread the spin- 
ning wheel. Tlieir slender hands — dust long 
ago — spun many threads which figured in the 
doweries of their daughters and outfits of their 
sons. 

As nimbled fingers slacken in their zeal, the 



OA^^S^ 



100 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

busy brains of our excitable age spin more than 
ever. Cerebal threads weave themselves into 
durable stuff, sweet and sound, graceful and 
picturesque, or else knot and snarl themselves 
into a rotten fabric of mere falsehoods and 
frauds. 

Since the first gossip of the cave dwellers, 
beside their woodland springs, society has de- 
lighted in its spinnings of a baser sort, and 
county chatter exceeds even the venom of the 
superannuated fop who calls of an evening to 
spin out the latest on dit of the clubs, and picks 
up new threads to add to his smutty snarL 

David sang: 

" Let lying lips be pat to silenoe/' 
And Shakespeare wrote : 

" What being so strong 
Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue? ' 

Yet neither psalmist nor bard have stayed 
lips from lying nor the gall of slander from 
embittering lives. Good mothers, who pin 
their faith to their own ugly ducklings, dream- 
ing of them as possible future swans, are ever 
alert to resent the slightest scoff at their brood, 
yet will sit still and smilingly hear the children 
of others traduced; and good men, who are 



I 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 101 

ready to knock down the spinner of the smalleet 
yam against their own spouses, will exchange 
a knowing glance, indulge in a wink or a lift- 
ing of the eyebrows over the gossip about some 
other man*s wife. 

What a gulf stretches between "mine" and 
"thine r' Yet the "thine" is but the "mine" 
of our brother. 

When the sum and substance of the neighbors' 
talk drifted to the duchess' 5-o'clock tea 
table, Lady Ethel, who had brought Gertrude 
on for the theatricals^ thought it was a pity 
people wasted so much time in acquiring 
materials for mere gossip, as the most elastic 
of brains had its limitations. 

"K we fill ours with vapid nothings," she 
continued, "we have no room for truths and 
beauty. So many people occupy their minds 
with abnormal and useless subjects, until their 
brain cells are stuffed with monstrosities like 
a penny side-show. It is the old story of the 
bad and good girls in the fairy tale; pearls, and 
rubies, toads and snakes of speech still drop 
from rosy lips, but unfortunately the reptiles 
outnumber the jewels." 

The visitors, humdrum county matrons, 
stared at the aunt. The duchess jingled her 
little household keys nervously and relocked 



102 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

the tea caddy. Her mannerisms and small econo- 
mies seemed to increase \vith her years, and Lady 
Ethel had felt quite anxious after a separation 
of some months to notice how pale and frail the 
duchess had grown. To his home circle, the 
breath against Bertram was gall and worm- 
wood, but they reasoned among themselves that 
it was mere jealousy of his good looks and gen- 
eral superiority which caused the petty talk. 
Yet notwithstanding that Strathways negatived 
the possibility of there being more than mere 
superficial friendship between Bertram and the 
fascinating Mrs. Maitland, the story spread. 
In a letter from the rectory, it reached Harold's 
ears, and he shared his anxiety with the 
Eev. Paul Herbert, who was passing a few 
hours in London at the time. The yoimg 
clergyman shrugged his shoulders and said : 

^^How impossible it is to instil sense into 
idlers. When I hear a story of this sort I al- 
ways thmk of the paraphrase: 

** * But Satan finds for idle minds 
Some mischief still to do.' 

Alas, for the precious minutes and hours lost 
in such useless spinning, when the minds might 
be busy weaving fairest fabrics of golden 
thoughts and deeds, which would outlive this 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 103 

fctding mortality and change to baptismal robes 
of a newer and purer life, but the dull spiders 
spin on, each in his own flimsy web, and their 
labor is vain, spent on perishable things, which 
must with the spinner, too, die and be buried.'' 

The two friends agree that Trixie must be 
sounded on the subject. In the meantime, like 
a valiant sister, she was fighting Bertram's 
battles. The day of the theatricals drew near, 
and Bertram one soft spring morning went for a 
final rehearsal with Mrs. Maitland. He found 
her in a rather excitable mood. 

"What has disturbed your little ladyship?" 
he inquired as soon as they were alone. 

"Surely, you must know," she burst out im- 
petuously; "they are talking about us." 

"Let tiiem talk," said Bertram recklessly. 

After the first plunge into this new phase of 
life, he drifted on, meeting the coquettish allure- 
ments of his pretty neighbor more than half- 
way, deafening his ears to the warnings of con- 
science, and putting aside the unwelcome 
knowledge that his grandparents and Trixie, 
Harold, and Paul Herbert, and the few near 
and dear to him would absolutely disapprove of 
his new and perilous friendship. 

"But I don't want them to make remarks 
about me," pouting the pretty red lips. 



104 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

**A woman who is so desperately charming 
must expect unkind criticisms from her less 
favored sisters." 

*'But, my dear boy, it hurts me to know that 
people say unkind things." 

''You know I would guard you from them if 
I could," and he lifted the delicate white hand 
to his lips. 

They were standing by the open window, 
looking out upon the garden, where primroses 
were struggling into existence and mating birds 
chirped happy spring greetings from the 
branches. She did not withdraw her hand, but 
lifted her baby face toward his towering above 
her. The spell of the season was upon Bertram, 
who promptly stooped and kissed her. 

She blushed a little and spread out her two 
hands before her, saying, ''Don't I" in atone 
that implied "Do." The rehearsal was forgot- 
ten, likewise the fact that there was a Captain 
Maitland and two small Maitlands in the back- 
ground. 

As Bertram hurried from the house, not 
wishing to meet any of the family that morn- 
ing, he felt a strange elation of spirits, as if he 
had come out of a crisis. Though nothing had 
passed between them that the whole troupe of 
sisters might not have witnessed, he felt that 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 105 

the little scene just enacted was but the prelude 
to a drama which might prove more tragic 
than comic. Beaching Strathways, he found his 
two best friends pacing the ten-ace walk with 
Trixie. Their advent was as unexpected as at 
that moment it seemed to him — ^unwelcome. 
"Of course, they meant to please him by com- 
ing to see him act, but — *' and he could not fin- 
ish the sentence even to himself. They were 
joined by the duchess, who, leaning on her 
grandson's arm, walked slowly up and down 
with the young people. 

"Sir Julian sends his kindest greetings to 
you, duchess,'* said Harold. 

Trixie noticed with trepidation the start her 
grandmother gave, and how her hand instinc- 
tively went to her side. She had confessed to 
her granddaughter that all mention of Sir 
Julian naturally brought painful associations, 
but Trixie did not like to see how physically 
affected the duchess was by slight annoyances. 

Next day the theatricals took place and the. 
county pronounced them "rattling good for 
amateurs," in the words of young Tudor. Ber- 
tram had not seen Mrs. Maitland again since 
their last attempted rehearsal until he joined 
her on this eventful night and acted the part of 
a lover with great spirit and passion. In fact 



106 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

the scene between the two had been so realistic 
that Trizie felt herself growing hot and cold 
and dared not glance at Harold, who sat next 
to her. Directly after the performance^ the fair 
hostess, still in the costume worn in the play, 
entertained the assembled guests, and Bertram 
had no opportunity of exchanging a word with 
her alone. It was not imtil they were leaving 
that he managed to whisper : 

"When may I see you again?'' 

"To-morrow at three, in the woods at the 
head of the lake," and the languishing look in 
the bewitching blue eyes signified a lovers' 
tryst. 

Putting his conscience behind him, Bertram 
followed Qertrude and Trixie out into the cool 
night air, unable to find a word of response to 
her running comment on the success of the 
evening. They had hardly passed the gates of 
Clovermead, when they were met by one of 
their house servants. 

"Surely not any bad news?" gasped Trixie. 

"Her grace is very ill; the doctor has been 
sent for." 

With heavy hearts the young people returned 
to Strathways, their worst forebodings fulfilled 
when they reached the house. The duchess 
suffered from heart failure and was not ex- 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 107 

pected to live through the night. Lady Ethel, 
at her mother's bedside, caught a few broken 
sentences: 

**It was for their sakes; you know, Ethel, 
that all I have saved beside my income goes 
untouched to his two children." And again: 
"It was for their sakes that I once lied." 

Toward morning she asked for Bertram 
alone. Bending down over the delicate face he 
had learned since a little child to love so dearly, 
he saw a look of entreaty come into her eyes. 

"What is it, dear grandmother?" he asked. 

"Bertram, I meant it for the best; forgive 
me." 

"You have always acted for the best regard- 
ing our welfare," he replied quickly. 

"I told you she was dead — ^when you and 
Trixie came here, you had one parent living." 

"And now?" 

The duchess gasped faintly, looking up intiO 
his face — ^'^And now — " but his question was 
never answered, for even as her pale lips 
tried to formulate the next sentence, her life's 
flame was flickering out. 



108 A DUCAL SKELETON, 



X. 

"O primavera gioventu del Tanno, 
O gioventu. primavera della vita,*' 

Sanq a sweet, fresh voice above the head of 
a pedestrian, who, as he walked along, cast 
rapid glances right and left, vainly trying to 
discover the whereabouts of the singer. On 
one side rose an irregular ledge of rocks, 
sprinkled with cactus and roses, intermingled 
with great bunches of variegated geraniums, 
trailing vines and tufts of spotted grass, and 
delicate lichens; behind these, as far as the eye 
could see, olive trees were climbing to reach 
the bright blue sky. On the opposite side of 
the path were more olive trees, sloping down 
indefinitely to the railroad below, and still be- 
yond lay the sea, sparkling under the splendor 
of an Italian sun. Sir Lester Barristable had 
left his trap outside the dilapidated old gate 
that stood invitingly open at the entrance of 
this unexplored road from the highway. He 
was afraid of finding himself in a cut de sac 
where a skittish mare might not be turned 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 109 

easily. So his companion held the reins while 
he followed the winding path a short distance. 

Again the sweet girlish voice broke the si- 
lence of a hot afternoon. Piqued by the persist- 
ent invisibility of the songster, Sir Lester 
paused, and in his best Italian exclaimed : 

"Will the illustrious cantatrice favor a poor 
stranger with information as to whether this 
beautiful road leads out again to the main drive 
to Mentone?" 

A moment's silence, and then some bushes 
among the rocks parted, and a winsome face 
peeped out: 

"This is a private road, but you are welcome 
to traverse it, signore; it will bring you to the 
highway, if you keep to the right and do not 
turn up toward Villa Millefleurs.'* 

"I beg a thousand pardons," exclaimed Sir 
Lester, in French, "but am I not speaking with 
Mademoiselle Millefleurs?" 

"You are," she replied in the same language. 

Sir Lester took off his hat and made her a 
sweeping foreign bow. He had heard a great 
deal lately about old Millefleurs' heiress. Re- 
port said that the merchant had left a very 
large fortune, which his still young and hand- 
some widow held in trust for their daughter. 
He glanced a moment at the graceful girlish 



no A DUCAL SKELETON. 

figure, which now emerged from the bushes 
perched on a rock a few feet above him, and 
decided that she was not as beautiful as report 
had painted her. Aloud he said : 

"The fates are propitious to-day; I am in- 
deed fortunate at being allowed to meet the 
young lady whose charms and merit are so 
greatly appreciated throughout the whole 
Riviera." 

The girl drew back a little. Her manner 
changed suddenly. She had responded to his 
question with childlike firankness, apparently 
exhibiting no concern at meeting a strange, 
good-looking man of the world, but the moment 
his voice assumed the conventional complimen- 
tary tone, a shrinking shyness seemed to en- 
velop Mademoiselle Millefleurs, as the delicate 
morning mists shrouded her beloved hills. Sir 
Lester saw his mistake at once and endeavored 
to regain the ground he had lost : 

"Your view is so lovely here, mademoi- 
selle,'' he said, eliminating all trace of personal 
allusion from his voice, "that it is well worth 
the climb, and with your permission I will 
drive through your grounds." 

"You left your carriage at the gate?' she 
asked with naive curiosity. 

"Yes, and the lady whom I am driving 



A DUCAL SKELETON. Ill 

awaits me ; so, thanking you for your courtesy 
I will rejoin her.*' 

A moment or two later, as he drove by the 
spot where he had left the girl, Lady Beatrice's 
sharp eyes scanned the rocks in vain; Made- 
moiselle Millefleurs had vanished. 

"Tou say she is not pretty?" 

"Not as pretty as I expected; report had 
painted her a sort of wingless angel ; I met an 
artist who raved over her exquisite coloring.'* 

His companion asked no more questions 
about Mile. Millefleurs, but as they drove past 
the avenue leading to the villa, glanced in- 
quisitively at a graceful figure receding down 
the path. The girl was dressed in white and 
swinging a large straw hat by its blue ribbons. 
Short pale golden curls haloed a sweet face 
with large dreamy eyes. She carried herself 
well and walked with the freedom bom of 
country life and loose clothes. As she disap- 
peared from view, apropos of nothing at all 
Lady Beatrice remarked : 

"Did I teU you, mon am% that my good- 
looking nephew is going to honor Mentone with 
his presence?" 

"It will be a bore having him here just now. 
When does he arrive and where will he stay?" 

"He expects to be at Mentone this week, and 
will patronize the Hotel des Anglais." 



112 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

^'Perhaps 1 had better take a run off to San 
Remo for a few days." 

There was not r^^t enough in his voice to 
satisfy her. 
"Will it be absolutely necessary?'* 
**Can we be too careful, cara miaf* 
Lady Beatrice was silent, but frowned as she 
looked across the acres of olive groves to the 
blue Mediterranean, and reflected that there 
had been a time when it was she, not Sir Les- 
ter, who had to preach caution. Betuming to 
Monte Carlo, she found the following letter 
awaiting her : 

"Thorntcropt. 
"Deab B : As Trixie was growing pale with 
melancholy, I induced father to defer returning 
to Strathways for another month. He is noth- 
ing loath to linger in London and seems dieered 
hy o\di friends; so I am bringing Trixie and 
Gertrude with me to Mentone to join Bertram, 
who goes there from Paris. If we run cross 
you in our wanderings, I venture a whisper 
in your ear— do not entice our nephew and 
niece into mischief. A word to the wise is 
enough. Am sending this to your banker in 
Paris and hope it may reach you soon. 

"Your affectionate sister, 
^'Ethel Layman.*' 

''There speaks the British matron,'' said 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 113 

Lady Beatrice, handing the epistle to Sir Les- 
ter, as they sat sipping their coffee at the Cafe 
de Paris. 

"How stupid of your sister. Her caution 
verily offers an inducement for a little sport. 
I should like to see your handsome niece trying 
her virgin luck at the tables. '' 

"I don't wish you to have the chance.'* 
Something in his tone had jarred upon Lady 
Beatrice, and she flushed angrily. A retort 
from Sir Lester was imminent, when some one 
touched his shoulder: 

"Jfon amif to think of finding you here!" 

A tall, well-groomed man with red ribbon in 
Lis buttonhole was presented to Lady Beatrice, 
as Sir Lester's dear friend, the Count Jules de 
Villeneuf. The trio soon adjourned to the 
Casino, where they tried their chances at the 
gaming tables, with a little music thrown in, 
to satisfy Lady Beatrice that they were chiefly 
there for the concert. 

That evening as Madame Millefleurs sat on 
her wide porch, watching the sun setting in the 
sea, while the moon was peering above the Alps^ 
Etoile, with a sigh observed : 

« Why cannot every one be good? It would 
simplify matters so much. ' ' 

*' What is passing through your foolish little 



114 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

head, my dear daughter?" stroking the fair 
curls resting against her knee. 

Etoile moved the low hench upon which she 
sat nearer to her mother, so she could lean an 
arm across her lap and hold one of her hands. 

"If all the world were only like thee, petite 
mamanP* 

"The earth would resemble paper dolls, all 
cut to one pattern.'* 

"Do not laugh, dearest. I am in earnest. 
Though I never want to know the details of 
evil I cannot remedy, I feel them near me at 
times, and they make me shudder." 

"You are too sensitive, chirie.^^ 

"But they are so real — so near at times. 
To-day a stranger asked his way while I was 
on the rocks near the gate. He bowed low and 
felt that he was most polite. His eyes were 
bad. He did not really care, in his heart, 
whether he was polite or not — only to produce 
the impression of being so. Mother, most men 
seem the same; they polish their manners, but 
somehow they seem to be acting a part." 

"Little philosopher, you are a severe critic. 
Come, we know some nice men. Mr. Duval, 
oar banker, and his family are sincere and good 
people." 

"Ab, they are our friends, and we love theip 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 115 

— ^but the strangers I would love, too, if they 
were but true. I want to stretch out my hand 
to all the world and cry *we are all God's chil- 
dren; love me as I love you!' ** 

^^Alas! dear Etoile; people would misunder- 
stand you." 

'^Because they have not been taught aright; 
they learn so much and are so wise, with their 
art and literature and conmierceand politics, 
but seem to take no time to simply learn to 
love. Surely, petite mdre; love should be like 
the moonlight on the sea, streaming straight 
from heaven, embracing all life's waves below, 
silvering somber griefs, enhancing common joys 
and pure — ^ahl pure as Mary's heart." 

Madame MiUefleurs stooped and kissed the 
girl's forehead in silence. 

^'Sweetest mother, tell me, can one love too 
much?" The violet eyes were lifted to the 
elder woman's face. 

"No, no; not as you will love, dear child." ] 

"Nor as thou canst love, maman.'^ 

They spoke in French and the familiar 
"thee" and "thou" was softest music on 
Etoile's lips. 

"To-morrow, when all those second and third 
cousins of mine arrive, we cannot have our deli- 
cious evenings alone together. Ah, why do 



116 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

girls ever want any home but their own? How 
can a husband ever fill a mother's place?" 

^'Some husbands can be far more to a girl 
than even her mother," but Madame Millefleurs 
knew what had prompted the remark. Her 
husband, her senior by more than twenty years, 
had been proud of his wife's beauty, but in 
daily life his manner, though courteous, was not 
tender or demonstrative. 

**Not such a mother as thou art," said Etoile, 
positively; **to be with thee here, alone, with 
our loved sea bathed in silver light, stretching 
far away, and heaven's countless eyes twink- 
ling peace into our souls — ah ! ma cherie this 
is life at its best. I would like always to rest 
thus against thy knee, and feel thy love and 
GK)d's around me." 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 11? 



XL 

In most family hotels in the Riviera there 
are generally two or three guests who become 
habituis of the house, returning each winter as 
regularly as the season, and upon whom the 
proprietor learns to depend as a part of his 
regular income. Often they are neither titled 
nor rich, but they demand and hold special at- 
tention from landlord and servants, as the pre- 
rogative of their being permanent instead of 
transient visitors. In this particular, the Hotel 
des Anglais at Mentone was specially favored. 
Several English families and some stray spin- 
sters and odd bachelors were always to be found 
there by the end of November. Sometimes 
delicate chests expelled them from London, 
home, fogs and respirators; sometimes lonely 
lodgings were eagerly substituted by the cheery 
comforts of a good hotel, and often tired house- 
keepers were glad of the chance to drop domes- 
tic cares and the bore of deciding between boiled 
and roast mutton for dinner. 



118 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

Among those who frequented the Hotel des 
Anglais ws^b a family of the name of Medkins. 
The mother was a widow, well on in years, 
with married daughters at home, and two single 
girls with her at Mentone, the younger of whom 
was rather frail, and the southern winter bene- 
fited her. For five years the Medkins arrived 
early and left late, and during the season 
gradually became acquainted with most of the 
English colony of the town. M. Emil Arbogast 
and his kind wife, considered them standbys in 
all emergencies. If an accident occurred, or 
sickness broke out in the hotel, they were gen- 
erally the first to be informed, and Mrs. Med- 
kins had sat by many a sick bed and helped 
many a stranger or servant, as the case might 
be. She was the head and front of the little 
coterie of permanent guests; a rather talkative 
and angular matron, embracing much shrewd- 
ness with a kind heart. She always wore black 
and a becoming widow^s cap, with unimpeacha- 
ble snowy streamers. Her two girls were fair 
and gentle, and old-fashioned enough to be ex- 
tremely obedient to "mamma." Newcomers 
were always thoroughly discussed by the coterie 
before being admitted within its sacred limits, 
and generally Mrs. Medkin's verdict suflSced as 
an open sesame to the magic circle, but some- 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 119 

times her sentiments upon the subject were 
voted down by a few narrow fogies, who, never 
noting anything beyond their nose-tips, were 
shocked at any unconventional act, and lay in 
wait, like veritable spiders, spinning poisoned 
webs out of airy nothings, to entangle erring 
fliesy and once a new guest had forfeited the 
approval of this little set, he was regarded as a 
pariah, and avoided accordingly. 

When Lady Ethel Layman, with Gertrude 
and her two cousins appeared on the scene, a 
flutter went through the cotei ie. There was no 
thought of trying such charming people before 
any little hotel tribimal. Mrs. Medkin and her 
satellites were on tiptoe of expectation and 
longing, to welcome the four arrivals with open 
arms, but to theiif surprise and disappointment, 
their well-meant efforts toward ingratiating 
themselves in the favor of a duke's daughter 
did not meet with eminent success. Lady 
Ethel was generally kind and courteous, but 
rarely remained in the public rooms. On one or 
two occasions, when waiting for her young 
people, she had chatted affably with some of 
the ladies, but beyond that, acquaintance 
seemed to end. The Laymans and Sinclairs 
had been at the Hotel des Anglais a week, 
when Lady Beatrice whirled in upon them one 
day. 



laO A DUCAL SKELETON. 

^^How you all can sabsigt in this poky place, 
when Nice and Monte Carlo are within reach, 
is beyond my comprehension." 

Her sister explained that they did not find 
Mentonepoky; on the contrary they pronounced 
it delightf uL 

*^The house seems swarming with British 
mediocre respectability. How exhilarating to 
shock the crowd out of its habitual decorum!" 
The idea tickled Lady Beatrice's fancy so much 
that she lost no time in putting it into execu- 
tion, and inmiediately telegraphed for maid 
and tnmks from Monte Carlo. 

Lady Ethel did not entirely approve of this 
addition to their party, having long ago decided 
that some relations were better apart. She 
feared her sister's influence on Bertram, who, 
amused at his aunt's wit and audacity of 
speech, let the momentary amusement she 
created efface the old childish dislike he once en- 
tertained for her. Besides, he had been sur- 
prised and touched by her attitude toward him- 
self and Trixie when the duchess died. Lady 
Beatrice had been hastily summoned from Lon- 
don, and arrived truly shocked and, in the 
presence of death, for once humbled. la her 
erratic way she loved her quiet, sensitive, out- 
of-date mother. Nature at last asserted itself 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 121 

in her heart. She wept bitterly and vowed she 
would be good friends with "the brats" for the 
future. During the dread blank that crept into 
Bertram and Trixie's lives on the loss of their 
grandmother, tiiey turned instinctively to Lady 
Ethel for comfort, who would gladly have lin- 
gered at Strathways, but, her husband falling 
ill, called her home and then Lady Beatrice for 
once thought of others before herself and stayed 
on in the desolate household until the duke, 
looking ten years older, began to interest him- 
self again in little outside matters. Though 
not demonstrative, and often dictatorial and 
exacting, he had nevertheless sincerely loved 
and admired his wife, and the severance of 
their almost daily companionship for fifty years 
was a blow from which it seemed doubtful he 
could ever recover. Bertram did not forget 
that their Aunt Beatrice's unquenchable spirits 
alone kept them all from sinking into a verita- 
ble slough of despond. He had felt kindly 
toward her ever since, not that she could ever 
take the place in his affection which Lady 
Ethel held, for she was shrined in an inner 
sanctum with the duchess, Trixie and the 
memory of an unknown mother. 

After the funeral of the duchess, Bertram 
had sought to glean the end of the sentence 



122 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

which death had withheld from him. The 
duke promptly dismissed the matter with a few 
words : 

** Whatever my dear wife did, was for the 
best; I supposed your mother dead long go; it 
was better so, believe me.*' 

Lady Ethel brought him a little light. 
^^Yee, his mother was living when he and his 
sister were brought to Strathways, and a house- 
keeper who had known his father, called once 
to see the children while en route to their 
mother, who was very ill, but no definite place 
was mentioned. As nothing was heard from 
her since, the inference was that she was dead." 

"Then I will find her grave.'* 

It was at this moment, when, softened by re- 
cent sorrow, the young man felt gradually 
drawn toward his favorite aunt, that Lady 
Ethel, in her sweet, low voice, told him how 
certain rumors preyed upon her mother's health. 
She did not intimate that the gossip was be- 
lieved, nor that any harm could proceed out of 
a friendship which under some circumstances 
might be most innocent. Bertram, conscience- 
stricken, felt as though the scales had fallen 
from his eyes. He marveled that he should 
have drifted so near a precipice, yet assured 
himself that without this catastrophe to recall 



i 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 123 

his wandering feet, he would have pulled up in 
time to save two foolish people from tumbling 
over altogether. For weeks he did not see Mrs. 
Maitland; she had written twice, first the con- 
ventional note of condolence and a reproachful 
inquiry as to his continued absence from 
Clovermead. Still he made no sign. Then 
she called on Trixie and met him face to face 
in the drawing room. He was calmly polite, 
and congratulated his better self when, upon 
greetings being exchanged, her warm ungloved 
hand aroused no lingering trace of passion. 
His pulses beat as evenly as before they met. 
Being a woman of quick intuition, she recog- 
nized that her power was spent and he had 
passed out of her keeping. And so the affair 
ended with a formal call now and then at 
Clovermead. 

Since then, Bertram, to please his grand- 
father, had taken up the study of law, but the 
dry-as-dust work this entailed, chafed him. 
Office work was never to his taste, and an out- 
door life was what he longed for. The trip to 
the Riviera, after many sedate months, was 
wine to his thirsty soul ; to be with Trixie, able 
to tramp and boat and drive and sketch, master 
of his own time, with an indulgent Aimt Ethel 
who never expected any one to be pimctual at 



124 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

meals, was unqualified bliss. His sister, too, 
pleased with fresh scenes, lost the sad look 
which was hardening her handsome face, since 
their bereavement the spring before. Until 
Lady Beatrice joined them, serenity had 
ushered in their mornings and lullabyed 
their nights. Her arrival was slightly volcanic 
in its nature. For a day or two she was 
simply jolly, criticising their fellow guests 
and allowing herself to be drawn into many 
chats with the coterie^ to its members intense 
edification. Then, lifting dainty skirts, she 
showed for a brief space the cloven hoof — ^by 
ordering some cigars and cigarettes sent to her 
rooms and receiving more than one caller of the 
opposite sex. The second offense against the 
cliques' good opinion was making the acquaint- 
ance of a young lady who had run the gamut 
of feminine criticism, and appeared with two 
young brothers, a youthful, decidedly attrac- 
tive governess, a French maid and comrier. 
The newcomer was an American. 

^^ You could tell that by her self-possession in 
entering the drawing room," exclaimed Mrs. 
Medkins in a tone implying that self-conscious- 
ness was preferable. 

Lady Ethel had been attracted by the girl's 
face and manner, but it was Lady Beatrice who 



A DUCAL SKELETON, 125 

struck the keynote and landed into a harmoni- 
ous acquaintanceship, which proved most accep- 
table to the entire party. Details gathered 
about the young American created fresh inter- 
est. Her father, a banker, detained at home 
on business, would join them m a few months; 
her mother was broken down nervously and the 
doctors had insisted that she be left to the care 
of her sister and a trained nurse, while the rest 
of .the fsamilj removed to some place within 
easy call, but not near enough to permit the 
noisy boys rushing into the invalid's room. 
Finding that the governess was unable to con- 
trol her unruly pupils, Isabel Saunders had 
been obliged to go with her little brothers and 
had the care of them and their governess also, 
who was a dependent, bric-a-brac sort of girl, 
utterly defying all cut-and-dried ideas as to an 
ordinary Englishwoman's estimate of under- 
paid and often overworked governesses. The 
Laymans shortly discovered that Isabel had met 
many of their London friends, and that she had 
letters of introduction to others. She had been 
presented at the first drawing room of the 
season, and would have remained to accept 
some delectable invitations, but her mother's 
health urged them south. 
^'I knew she was the right sort. She looked 



126 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

80 well groomed;'' remarked Lady Beatrice 
triimiphantly to her nieces, ^'and the coterie* s 
back will have to come down when they see 
how intimate she is with the ^ Ducal party.' 
Yes, that is what those idiots dub us. ^ Who 
is she?' queries Mrs. Gnmdy, or *what is she?' 
and above all ^what is she worth?' ^An 
American, an heiress, some milUon of dollars. ' 
Presto! change. It is all correct. Baa, baa, 
bleats a society sheep, and a thousand tails wink 
after him. Over they go, head over heels 
sometimes in their desperate haste, lest they be 
distanced by the leaders in general opinion." 

The girls laughed and vowed they had fallen 
in love with the American, on her own personal 
value, and intended to have her to tea in their 
rooms that afternoon, and Bertram must try 
to keep the two brothers in order, for, of 
course, they and their yoimg teacher^ would be 
included in the invitation. 

^^ There again the fair Isabel touched the 
British matron in a sore spot ; governesses with 
us are commonly relegated to nurseries, and a 
pretty one is usually shown the door." 

^^I am sure Fraulein Schneider had a fair 
chance with us," remonstrated Trixie. 

^^If only Mrs. Medkin could drop in and see 
a salaried teacher being wa^ited upon by a 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 127 

duke's grandson," continued Lady Beatrice, ^^I 
think burned feathers and lavender salts would 
surely be in demands How on earth does she 
expect to marry off those lanky daughters, if 
she does not powder their angles with a little 
diablerie f^^ 

^^I think the elder is quite pretty, and she is 
clever; does water-colors and spins at a real 
wheeL'* 

Gertrude generally found a kind word for 
her sex. 

"Bahl it is merely for the sake of the novelty 
that attics and lumber rooms have been ran- 
sacked and farmhouses invaded to unearth 
spinning wheels, so that girls may tie back flax 
with bright bows, hang up gom*ds quaintly to 
hold a drop of water wherewith to moisten taper 
finger-tips, and strike graceful poses, with their 
dainty feet beating time to the whirr and whirl 
of the ancient wheel, singing the same refrain 
it hummed in days of yore. Bertram I instead 
of sitting there, grinning at your elderly aunt, 
you had better be tuning my graceful little 
speech into a madrigal or sonnet; it really 
sounded quite poetical." 

*^ And let it be read to the assembled Medkin 
crowd?" 

"Bad boy! it would bo wasting much sweet- 



128 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

ness on desert air. No, if they want variety, I 
might preach to them upon the usefulness for 
matrimonial ends of cultivating novelties in 
fads— even to the extent of lauding the senti- 
ment of the green carnation." 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 139 



XIL 

It was Isabel Saunders who first suggested 
having lunch in one of the grottoes scattered 
along the coast between Mentone and Venti- 
miglia, and her brothers immediately msisted 
on carrying out the idea. Two sailboats were 
hired, and with well-packed baskets of eatables, 
and some rugs and books, Lady Ethel's party 
and the Saimders started off one glorious morn- 
ing. There was just enough breeze to fill the 
sails as they scudded over the sparkling sea. 
Looking over the edge of the boats the blue 
depths were suggestive of mermaids and olden 
legends, while toward the shore was a new 
view of Mentone, showing the quaint church 
spires silhouetted against an azure sky, and 
terraces rising behind the town, where the 
lemon trees slowly melted into the olive groves 
above, and far beyond, the background of the 
noble Alps. Beaching the grotto, a hilarious 
lunch was enjoyed. Miss Saunders, who was 
hostess for the day, had invited the young chap- 
lain of the English church to join the party. 



130 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

Mr. Mordaunt bad been especially kind to tbe 
boys, and evidently relished the afternoon cup 
of tea to which he was frequently invited by 
their elder sister and her bright-eyed compan- 
ion, Susie Hubbard. 

Lady Beatrice, feeling as she expressed it 
**very fit," desired strongly to hold forth, and 
meeting with no encouragement from her sister 
or nieces, enticed Isabel into an animated dis- 
cussion concerning the respective merits of 
England and America. Some years before, 
Lady Beatrice had spent a few months on the 
other side of the Atlantic. She bad seen and 
enjoyed much, and accepted unending enter- 
tainments from her hospitable hosts. She liked 
the United States and its people, but as usual, 
could not refrain from commenting upon her 
neighbors. 

•*It is all very well to uphold the int^rity of 
your countrymen, but they are not taught hon- 
esty as we are; as a nation you practically oon» 
done much fraud. Of course, your eagle will 
stretch his wings and screech ^no,' but it is 
true, nevertheless, that there lurks a latent satis^ 
faction in the hearts of your business men at 
hearing of a sharp bargain driven, and a desire 
to get the better of his neighbor is inborn in 
the Yankee/' 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 131 

"It seems bom in John Bull," observed Ber- 
tram, lazily lying on a rug at the entrance to 
the grotto, and blowing smoke from a cigarette 
as he watched Isabel's profile, and decided that 
in a different style she was quite as handsome 
as Trixie. 

**I deny it," retorted her ladyship, "though 
we have been dubbed a nation of shopkeepers;" 
and, she added parenthetically, "some of our 
blue blood is certainly running hotels, and sub 
rosa, owning pubs and florist and milinery 
shops." 

"And don't forget the hansom cabs," put 
in Trixie. 

"Aside from that," continued her aunt, not 
deigning to notice the interruption, "the aver- 
age Britisher is certainly taught from the nurs- 
ery that his word is his bond and that a lie is 
a mean thing. During a visit to your delight- 
ful States, I could not help being surprised at 
the pleasure children of good parentage took 
in ^stuffing,' as they called it, when one was 
foolish enough to listen to them seriously. 
With a straight face young America will tell 
you the most abominable lie, and think it a 
good joke if, being truthfully inclined, you be- 
lieve them. Parents deem this ^cmming' and 
*smart.' " 



132 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

'^Children are often a reproach to iheir par- 
entSy'' said Isabel, *'but the license they are 
allowed, often vriith evil results, seems but a 
natural reaction from colonial days, when dis- 
cipline among conservatiye Elnglishmen was so 
strict that children were not allowed to sit 
down in the presence of their parents." 

"Of course, I must admit that we have spoilt 
children at home; I know the duke tried to 
spoil us, but then Ethel was not ^spoilable.' 
Still even our enfants gdtes kick in a less 
aggressive manner than yours, and scream in a 
lower tone. I wonder why it is that the key- 
note of your society register is pitched so much 
higher than ours? Arriving at an afternoon 
* At Home' in New York, when the rooms are 
filled with well-dressed, pretty women, one is 
greeted at the door by a babel of shrill voices 
sufScient to give one an earache for a month." 

Isabel laughed. The homethrust was only 
too accurate. Bertram, still watching her, be- 
gan to softly hum ^^Riez^ riez toujour s.^^ 

^'As a nation, you love noise," asserted Lady 
Beatrice^ "Even your engines and steamers 
screech with evident glee. Except among a 
small set, who out-English the English in re- 
pressing anything like demonstration, society 
in your wonderful States — ^f or I admit that they 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 133 

are wonderful — loves a crowd, loves to scream 
and loves to gabble. Look at your summer re- 
sorts; we have nothing in England compared 
to them; but your magnificent hotels are only 
backgrounds for the shoddy display of noisy 
idlers, who overflow the piazzas and offices, 
where rocking chairs vie with gossiping tongues 
in trying to solve the problem of perpetual 
motion." 

*^Some English tongues seem to have mas- 
tered that problem already." 

The girls laughed, while Lady Beatrice 
frowned at her nephew's audacity. 

^^I am afraid our second-class hordes are de- 
cidedly noisy, but second-class hordes invade 
even the sacred precincts of the Old World," 
and there was a mischievous twinkle in Isabel's 
eyes that delighted Bertram. 

*'0h! I mean nothing personal touching 
your friends, for the people I met in New York, 
Boston, Philadelphia and elsewhere, were above 
criticism, and as to yourself, my dear, as a 
matter of plain history, I should never have 
taken you for an American." 

*' Which is the highest praise most of the 
English think can be bestowed upon us," and 
again the gray eyes were dancing with merri- 
ment. 



134 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

**Just ihinky Aunt Beatrice, if a Yankee 
turned the table and implied a compliment by 
declaring he would never have taken you for 
an Englishwoman.'' 

Gertrude, who could never bring herself to 
fence with any one, pinched Trixie gently to ex- 
press approval of her cousin's daring. Lady 
Beatrice's lorgnette was levelled at the speaker 
with the remark : 

^'I should much prefer being taken for a 
French woman." 

*'By the way, I met a most fascinating 
French widow yesterday at the Countess Some- 
thing-whisky's tea (I never can [remember 
those long Russian names) — such a beautiful 
woman — I don't mean my hostess, but the 
widow." 

A smile rippled aroimd at Isabel's prescript. 
They had all noted the coimtess, who was re- 
puted as witty as she was ugly. ^^ElleUait 
laide di faire peuTy^^ asserted her enemies, yet 
her invitations wen) accepted with avidity. 
The Medkins had been surprised to find that 
she had called on the American girl, whom 
they tried to snub; but the [countess was wise 
in her generation. Her bankers had said 
enough to prove that Isabel would be an attrac- 
tion. 



r. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 136 

Lady Ethel's gentle voice was heard asking 
who was this beautiful widow, 

^^A Madame Millefleurs who lives in an ideal 
villa, is fabulously rich, possesses a fairy prin^ 
cess sort of daughter " 

"Tell us about her; fairy princesses are rare 
nowadays." 

"She is different from most girls, with 
dreamy violet eyes, pale golden curls crowning 
a delicate little head, exquisite coloring and a 
pensive mouth, though her smile is bewitching. 
She speaks English with a faint accent, but her 
mother has only a delicious enunciation. They 
liked a song I sang, were very friendly, and are 
coming to see me. I have lost my heart to 
both." 

"Such a ridiculous name," observed Trixie. 

"The girl is called Etoile, and happy will 
the man be upon whom her light shines." 

"Whose light shines?" asked Mr. Mordaunt, 
returning from an inspection of the inner grotto, 
whither he had accompanied Susie Hubbard 
and the Saunders boys. 

"Etoile Millefleurs'." 

"Is she not lovely? I am glad you have met 
her. They do not know many of the English 
here, but frequent the French and Bussian 
colony." 



186 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

"They are French, of course?'* 

"Madame Millefleurs had an English mother 
and was educated in England; her father was 
French. Her husband died some five years 
ago, quite an old man. His people are devoted 
to her. She is charity itself, her kindness em- 
bracing all creeds €uid nationalities. Mentone 
owes her much." 

There was a whoop from the boys, who burst 
into view, followed by their governess. "Oh, 
Bella!" they shrieked, "we have foimd some 
remains-^lookl Mr. Mordaunt, just as you 
left, we found them." 

The gray, brownish-looking objects were 
handled with curiosity by the group, when the 
young clergyman pronoimced them, to the best 
of his belief, to be genuine relics of the stone 
age. 

"A quantity of human bones, weapons and 
tools have been foimd in these caves, between 
here and Nice; we must show these to old Mr. 
Tusseau, who is an expert." 

"We'll start a museum of our own and put 
in our own curiosities only," exclaimed Billy. 

"And get papa to give us the cases," added 
Bobbie. 

Lady Beatrice, who was not partial to chil- 
dren, rose and, shaking her jaunty dress, de- 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 137 

Glared tbey would all die of cramp if they sat 
still any longer, and proposed continuing the 
sail. The two sunburned Italians who had 
charge of the crafts, were ordered to get them 
ready, and the young fellows scrambled up 
from an unfinished nap and began transferring 
the cushions and rugs from the cave to the 
"Maria" and "Carina." Bertram while lend- 
ing a hand, heard a shout. Another boat was 
approaching; a moment more and she grated 
on the beach, while two familiar figiures sprang 
out. 

"Ye gods and little fishes! What good wind 
wafts you here?" 

Bertram was giving a strong grip to Harold 
Jewett and Paul Herbert. The explanation 
was simple : Sir Julian Drayton had a patient 
who offered unlimited sums to have the famous 
physician accompany him to the Eiviera, but 
as he found it impossible to leave his London 
practice, Harold had been substituted to attend 
the sick man for a month and daily telegraph 
his progress to Sir Julian, who was to prescribe 
by return telegrams. Paul Herbert, being run 
down from a hard winter's work, had decided 
to join Harold for a short vacation. The two 
had hunted up their friends and, finding that 
they were out sailing, decided not to lose such 



X ^ '. .X. 







A DUCAL SKELETON. 139 



XIII. 

CoMTE Jules de Yilleneuf brought let- 
ters of introduction to Madame Millefleurs, and 
forthwith was invited to dine en famille. His 
credentials came from old friends of madame's 
husband, which was quite enough to insure him 
a welcome. During her husband's lifetime and 
since his death, Madame Millefleurs had tried 
by anticipating his every wish while living, 
and honoring his memory when dead, to atone 
in a measure for her inability to return the de- 
votion he had lavished upon her. She had 
never deceived the old merchant, who knew 
that respect and gratitude, and tender solici- 
tude for his welfare, was all he could expect in 
return from the woman he adored. 

Comte Jules was a very practical man, who 
had managed to retain his small estate in 
Brittany, which, through the extravagance of 
his father, had barely escaped falling into the 
hands of strangers. While his income was 
small, he succeeded through prudence and 



140 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

economy in enjoying life, and as a compensa- 
tion for limited means, he boasted the bluest 
blood in all France. He was direct heir to an 
old childless marquis, whose suggestions gener- 
ally had to be construed as commands. So, 
when the autocratic old marquis had said to 
him one day, "'Jules, mon amiy it is time that 
you had a menage of your own, and a son to 
bear your name," the comte felt it was his 
bounden duty to marry on the first available 
occasion, and, when a few months later, the 
marquis grumbled at his still being a bachelor, 
the comte had asked for a list of eligible 
maidens. 

"In my day," growled the old nobleman, 
"we had no difficulty in making out our own 
lists of the mademoiselles we admired, the only 
trouble being that too often our choice did not 
meet the parental approval; but nowadays, 
when young men are extremely independent of 
their elders' advice, they seem too indolent to 
take the trouble of even making a selection 
among the fair ones around them." 

But before the count took his departure, his 
relative had run over the names of several of 
his friends, recalling their daughters or grand- 
daughters to little purpose, for none suited his 
taste. Suddenly he exclaimed : 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 141 

'*Why, there's Millefleurs' little girl; let me 
see, she must be grown by this time. Now, 
if you could win her, mon cher^ she would 
bring you a large dot, and you would have the. 
pleasure of being son-in-law to one of the most 
charming women I have ever known." 

It was on the loggia, after dinner, when they 
were sipping coffee, and Etoile had vanished 
for a moment that Comte de Villeneuf com- 
municated the object of his visit to Madame 
Millefleurs, who seemed considerably startled 
by his proposition. 

"My daughter is very young," she began. 

*'Is not Mademoiselle Etoile twenty?" 

"Yes, but she is young for her age, and to 
me seems such an utter child yet that I could 
not associate her with the idea of marriage at 
present." 

"K madame would only allow me to pay my 
court to mademoiselle, I should be willing, of 
course, to wait six months or a year, should I 
be so fortimate as to gain mademoiselle's affec- 
tion." 

"I do not think it likely," said Madame 
Millefleurs hesitatingly, "that Etoile will be 
anxious to leave her home. I fully appreciate, 
Monsieur le Comte, the honor you are doing 
me in asking for the hand of my daughter, but 



142 A DUCAI, SKELETON. 

being partly English myself, I have ideas on 
this subject somewhat at variance with those 
current in France. You will find yourself a 
welcome visitor at our villa and so have oppor- 
timities of seeing more of my daughter and de- 
ciding whether she and you can really care for 
each other." 

'^From what I have already heard of Made- 
moiselle Etoile, I feel sure that the man would 
be extremely enviable who could win her for 
his wife, and now that I have seen her, I am 
more anxious than ever that I should be that 
happy individual." 

Etolie, joining her mother at this moment, 
put an end to the conversation, but the count, 
taking Madame Millefleurs at her word, be- 
came a constant visitor at the villa. It was 
just at this time that Isabel Saunders met the 
charming widow. Mutually they were at- 
tracted to each other, and invitations to Villa 
Millefleurs followed. The count being very 
much in evidence there, Isabel wondered whom 
he was courting — smother or daughter; he 
divided his compliments and attentions between 
them equally. 

"How do you like him?" asked Etoile of 
their new friend. 

*'As French counts go, he is not objection- 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 143 

able," was the blunt reply. **I am not partial 
to the foreign nobility, as a rule — ^at least not 
to the masculine part of it." 

^^But he cannot help being bom noble, and 
he seems kind and polite. Maman likes him," 
urged Etoile, as a conclusive reason for approv- 
ing of him herself. 

The two girls were sitting in an arbor covered 
with vines; a small table littered with pencils, 
a box of colors and drawing pads showed their 
morning's work. A beautiful peep of Mentone 
and the Mediterranean below had invited the 
rough sketches. Isabel glanced at the innocent 
face beside her with its violet eyes gazing out 
into life so dreamily, and secretly hoped that 
Etoile, with her ideals and illusions and sweet 
white soul, would never mate with a man of 
the world like Jules de Villeneuf , Her cogita- 
tions were abruptly terminated by a servant 
bringing a message for mademoiselle to join ma- 
dame immediately. There had been a slight 
accident. 

**An accident — ^to whom? What do you 
mean?" cried the young girl, pale in an instant. 

It was the nursery governess who had been 
thrown down by a horse. She was better; 
mademoiselle must not agitate herself. 

^' What I Nera, dearest Nera," and without 



144 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

waiting to bear more, Etoile had flown toward 
the house. 

As Isabel followed with the maid more 
slowljy she gathered that, in crossing a street, 
while shopping in Mentone, ^^Nera," as the 
woman was familiarly called, bad been knocked 
down by a reckless driver, and would have 
been killed but for the courage of a gentleman, 
who, at great risk, rushed forward and dragged 
her from beneath the horses' feet, and the 
stranger then carried her into a shop, and pro- 
cured a physician who bound up some ugly 
cuts, and to complete his kindness, her deliverer 
called a carriage and drove her home. Evi- 
dently he would then have made his escape, but 
Madame Millefleurs had insisted upon his re- 
maining until Etoile could be smnmoned to 
join her thanks to her mother's, for the strang- 
er's goodness. 

Nerahad been lifted from the carriage and 
taken to her room, and madame and mademoi- 
selle were listening to the doctor's directions 
which the gentleman was transmitting to them, 
when Isabel, coming down the cypress drive to 
the portico of the villa, recognized Bertram. 

"Why, Mr. Sinclair!" she exclaimed. 

At her voice Madame Millefleurs started vio- 
lently. Bertram turned in surprise. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 145 

^^This is delightful; I had not expected to 
see you this morning," and a look of mutual 
satisfaction was signalled from their eyes. 

"Let me properly introduce my friend,*' be- 
gan Isabel. 

"There is no need; I know now to whom we 
are indebted. I believe you are staying with 
your aimt, Lady Ethel Layman and your sister 
and cousin at the Hotel des Anglais?" Ma- 
dame's beautiful dark eyes were on his face; her 
voice was vibrating with repressed emotion. 

"How she cares for that woman," thought 
the young American. " I do hope that the acci- 
dent may lead to no serious results, for my 
friends, with their ardent southern nature, 
would suffer much in losing their trusty com- 
panion." 

Bertram acknowledged that his party was 
staying at the hotel. 

"You see. Dame Bumor has already spoken 
of you; her whispers stretch even to our olive- 
covered hills. You are most welcome, Mr. 
Sinclair, to Villa Millefleurs. My daughter 
and I shall never forget your bravery. I beg, 
as it is already noon, you will lunch with us." 

If Isabel had not stood there with the sun- 
light flickering on her reddish bronze hair and 
her eager eyes filled with light, Bertram would 



146 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

have declined the mvitation, but her presence 
always attracted him so strongly that the 
temptation to spend a few hours in her com- 
pany among such pleasant surroundings, was 
irresistible, and he accepted Madame Mille- 
fleurs' -hospitality with unfeigned pleasure. 

''We lunch at one, and perhaps while we are 
with our poor Nera Miss Saunders will kindly 
play hostess for me and show you some of our 
pet views." 

Isabel gladly acquiesced and soon was wan- 
dering through a small grove of evergreen oaks, 
palms, and cypresses. On the outskirts of the 
wood was a garden, laid out in terraces, scent- 
ing the air with its burden of roses, heliotrope, 
mignonette, jessamine, geranium and a hun- 
dred different flowers, while around like sen- 
tries guarding this little world of fragrance, 
stood rows of orange and lemon trees, decked 
in bridal array of white blossoms. In the 
center was a huge stone fountain, smmoimted 
by an amiable triton, blowing watery blasts 
from his great conch shell, while goldfish 
sported beneath the silvery rain falling into the 
basin below> Stone and marble seats were 
scattered around the garden and upon one of 
these, under an old cypress, Isabel sat listening 
tp Bertram's account of the accident. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 147 

*' Indirectly, I feel a bit responsible for the 
poor soul's fall; she had been watching me buy 
some pottery and was listening with both ears 
when I gave my name and address, her black 
eyes starmg incessantly at me until I hardly 
knew whether to be flattered or annoyed by this 
persistent surveillance. The woman looked so 
respectable with her white hair and neat dress 
that I could not suspect her of designs oh my 
pocket, and curious to see if she would follow 
me, I walked down to the next street and 
crossed over the road. ^Nera,' as they call her, 
was close on my footsteps, evidently fearing to 
lose sight of me. She was looking at my re- 
treating figure and not watching the carriages 
which were driving past her; hence the catas- 
trophe. I caught a glimpse of the poor thing 
being flung to the ground, and naturally en- 
deavored to drag her from imder those merci- 
less hoofs." 

*^So feminine curiosity brought a penalty of 
sprained arm, cut head and bruises ad in- 
finitum. I did not realize [jou were so worth 
looking at.'' 

But he did not mind Isabel's chaffing while 
her smile shone on him and her clear laugh 
conveyed a feeling of bon camaraderie. "Pes- 
simism does not suit you, especially when it 



148 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

touches the subject of women; you are too 
chivabous.'* 

By way of thanks, Bertram broke two roses 
from an outstretched branch and gave them to 
her in silence. She pinned them to her belt, 
while a swift, rare blush touched her cheeks 
and then became deeper as she marvelled that 
she blushed. A sudden spell fell upon the two; 
the garden became enchanted, the dripping 
water fairy music, the past with sad memories 
banished, while the overwhehning present was 
theirs, with its golden moments; the odors of 
flowers were intoxicating fumes to their brains. 
Suddenly Bertram awoke to the fact that he 
was wildly happy, that a new life had dawned 
for him, where the hopes and fears of his ego 
were dimmed by the great light sweeping over 
him from another soul. It was not the delecta- 
tion of flirtation, the mere sensuous enjoyment 
of nearness to a lovely woman, nor tiie mad 
excitement of passion with its fiery longings 
and selfish desires; it was a sweet calm peace 
that stole through his whole being, calling for 
the smrender of self and filling his heart with 
holy raptures. Isabel read unspoken thoughts 
in his brown eyes ; her pulses beat with pleas- 
ure, for she had begun to realize what this 
daily informal companionship with Bertram 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 149 

meant to her, but she would not take advantage 
of the passing spell to encourage avowals which 
in soberer hours might be regretted. With an 
effort she asked in most prosaic tones, ^^What 
was Nera's other name?'' 

With a start, Bertram roused himself to an- 
swer that he had not the slightest idea. He 
tried to listen to the remarks that followed, but 
conversation languished, for he felt it almost 
beyond his power to talk commonplaces while 
wonderful harmonies were singing in his soul 
— still too faintly to pour forth in words, but 
loud enough to deafen mere worldly din. It 
was almost a relief when Etoile's white dress 
gleamed among the shadows of the cypress trees, 
and her soft voice summoned them to lunch. 

"Have you seen all the views, monsieur?" 
she asked. 

**I left some of the favorites for you to show 
to Mr. Sinclair." 

**Is it not lovely here?" said Etoile to Ber- 
tram, with innocent pride. **I love this home 
so much that it seems to me the most charming 
spot on earth." 

"It is very beautiful, indeed; a place to live 
out roble thoughts; a place to realize ideals," 
said Bertram dreamily, as he gazed toward the 
distant Alps and the blue sea stretching out to 
the horizon. 



150 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

Etoile flashed a bright glance at him : ^^Ahl 
I know now that you belong to my world ; I 
hope you will come to the villa very often with 
my cara Miss Isabel." 

Bertram did not understand the little speech. 
Later he knew. Etoile classed all the people 
she met as outside or inside her world, as she 
called it, meaning a sphere of thought where 
all men and women who believed in goodness 
or ideality met on common groimd. Within 
its sacred limits only brotherly love prevailed; 
envy, hatred, and all uncharitableness were 
banished from Etoile's happy country. 

As they neared the house, Comte Jules de 
Villeneuf met them coming down the broad 
drive, and the two men were introduced. 

"So, I may have a rival," thought the count, 
watching the young gu-1 he proposed to marry, 
and noting her animated face raised to Ber- 
tram. The latter wondered whether this aris- 
tocratic-looking Frenchman, with his St. Ger- 
main manner, had favorably impressed Isabel, 
but a remembrance of her responsive, blushing 
face, as she pinned on the roses, equalized the 
dawning fear. That the coimt ardently ad- 
mired her, he had no doubt. 

The dining room opened out upon a loggia 
overlooking the valley and Mentone below. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 161 

Where Bertram sat be could see the sparkle of 
the sea between the trees and hear the birds 
singing without and within from a small aviary 
in the conservatory adjoining. The scent of 
flowers filled the rooms, roses in silver dishes 
mingling with the delicate cut glass and Dres- 
den china. The gracious hostess presided over 
a delectable limcheon prepared by her French 
chef, and the admirably trained servants aided 
in producing a sense of well-being and comfort 
which her guests fully appreciated. No wonder 
Isabel had been absorbed in these new friend. 
This was enchanted ground, where two harm- 
less Circes wove their mystic spell about all 
who were favored enough to enter their 
domains. After luncheon, Etoile took Bertram 
for a short walk to some crags that commanded 
a wide view of the country and hills beyond. 
The count followed at a short distance with 
Isabel and seemed purposely to linger behind. 
Bertram's eyes turned toward the loiterers. 
His young guide laughed : 

*'No wonder you admire her; she is so orig- 
inal and so good, without pretense and is be- 
sides so handsome. Every one must like her.' ' 

''She is certainly most attractive,'' he an- 
swered, rather confused at her frankness. 

"Attractive is not the word, and you do not 



162 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

mean that; now yon are slipping out of my 
world; unless you say just what you think you 
will be without the gates." 

*' Having once let me within, it would be too 
oruel to exclude me again." 

Etoile leaned a little toward her companion 
and said, earnestly: '^You are brave, because 
you risked yourself to save our Nera, whom we 
love — and brave men are true, so I can speak 
openly. I quite love Isabel, and, when I know 
you better, shall love you, too. If you love 
each other, why be afraid to own it; love is so 
beautiful; there is nothing like it in the whole 
wide world. You look surprised, but a little 
later you will learn to understand me. I am 
not like other girls. There €ure some things one 
must know about oneself; a great beauty real- 
izes her charm; great painters and authors, 
however modest, recognize their own Qod- 
given talent. Where others have experience, I 
have inituitions which tell me the truth about 
people. If I ceased to be perfectly open myself 
or nursed envy or hatred, instead of admiration 
and love for others, in my heart, these intui- 
tions would vanish and I should have to learn 
by experience as worldly people do. You will 
come here often, we shall become great friends, 
and you will find I can be trusted, and you will 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 153 

talk to me as to a little sister. If Isabel does 
not yet feel willing to acknowledge that she 
loves you, then you must wait to tell her what 
is in your heart.'* 

The young girl paused and looked confidingly 
up into Bertram's face. 

**Tou are silent because you do not know 
quite how to answer me. Say nothing now ; 
I understand all you feel." 

And so looking down at Isabel coming slowly 
toward them, the Bubicon was passed and Ber- 
tram, no longer disguising his feelmgs, whis- 
pered to Etoile : 

^'Yes. I love her; and shall through all 
eternity." 



154 A DUCAL SKELETON. 



XIV. 

When people are ivandering about in a para- 
dise of their own creating, fools are apt to rush 
in where angels fear to tread. Both Isabel and 
Bertram were dreaming, hoping, fearing, 
wholly unconscious ,that kind and unkind eyes 
were watching their little comedy, and that 
Mrs. Medkinsand her cotertey and every Tom 
Noddy gossip were passing comments and 
weighing probabilities as to their becoming 
engaged. 

Lady Ethel, Trixie and Gertrude heartily 
approved of Isabel and welcomed the thought 
of her becoming one of the family. They dis- 
creetly avoided any illusion to the subject be- 
fore Bertram, but devising a hundred oppor- 
tunities for the yoimg people to meet, wisely 
ignored their openly shown preference for each 
other's society. Notwithstanding Bertram's 
avowal to Etoile, he ventured on none to Isa- 
bel, fearing to stake his happiness on her an- 
swer until she had given him more definite 
encouragement. In his own mind he revolved 



N 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 165 

the question as to choosing a favorable moment 
to have his fate decided. A sail some smmy 
morning, when, with only the boys fishing and 
an old boatman for company, golden moments 
of semisolitude could be secured, with the 
azure Mediterranean and majestic Alps to nerve 
him to voice the right words; or, a moonlight 
stroll by the sea wall when the soft night 
breeze, perfume laden, and the silvery light on 
the waters, opened hearts to speak and listen; 
again, he might make up a donkey party to a 
high point and with the boys still as uncon- 
scious conspirators, beguile Isabel away from 
the rest of the party, and on some lofty crag, 
amid enchanting scenery, pour out his soul in 
her ear. But the Fates smiled not on these 
plans; they willed it otherwise. After break- 
fast one day Trixie proposed a drive to Monte 
Carlo, and sent Bertram to beg Isabel to join 
them. She was in her sitting room by the 
open window when he was announced. Before 
he could deliver his message, she exclaimed : 

^^Such a ludicrous thing has happened, and 
though I am pleased, I hardly know yet 
whether to laugh or cry; it is as if some one 
had jogged my mental funny bone." 

She was flushed and looked very handsome 
and excited. 



156 A DUCAL SKELETON. 



id 



'Tell me about it,'' he urged, seating him- 
self near the sofa, as she sank back among the 
cushions and laughed and sighed in a breath. 
^^It was so unexpected. I had told Susie I 
would take the boys a walk, so she could get 
off some home letters this morning, but we had 
barely left the hotel when my brothers changed 
their minds and b^ged for a sail with old 
Tomasso, who seems a trusty souL I started 
them off and retmmed. Opening this door, I 
observed Mr. Mordaunt in the act of embracing 
Susie I Oh, you need not look shocked ; it's all 
right. A moment's confusion ensued. I in- 
voluntarily exclaimed, *Ib^ your pardon!' and 
was beating a hasty retreat, when Susie rushed 
into my arms and confided that she had just 
become engaged to the worthy chaplain. Of 
course, poor things, they were not expecting 
me to return so soon — and any one else would 
have knocked I" 

Bertram laughed outright at the picture con- 
jured up of shy Mr. Mordaunt's horror at being 
caught love making. 
^' And when will the wedding take place?" 
*'It is rather early to settle dates, but when 
mamma and my aunt join me, which I hope 
will be next week, we shall arrange so that 
Susie can have a nice send-off. There is no 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 167 

need for them to wait. Their small incomes 
united will su£Sce for the love in a cottage they 
anticipate " 

**Do you laugh at that, too?" 

"Certainly not ; as somebody says somewhere, 
*give me a true heart and a potato paring.' '* 

"Will you take the true heart without the 
potato paring?" 

Isabel started, and the smile died on her lips. 
Fears that she might imagine he was merely 
jesting, precipitated matters. 

"Isabel — do you not know that I love you — 
that my greatest happiness in life would be to 
win you for my own?" 

She turned her head away in silence. Ber- 
tram, reckless now that all was gained or lost, 
threw himself on the sofa beside her, and tak- 
ing one of the slim hands in his, tried to look 
into her face. 

"Isabel, speak to me — oh, surely such love 
as mine must earn some response?" 

She slowly turned tow£urd him, and tears 
were in her eyes. Though not a word more 
was spoken, Bertram sealed her answer with 
his lips. 

No one was more pleased when the engage- 
ment was announced than Harold Jewett, and 
he talked it over freely with Trixie, who was 



158 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

glad of the chance for a tSte-h-tite with her old 
playfellow. She had seen little of him alone 
since his arrival at Mentone. The three men 
were often together, discussing clubs, college 
days, religion, or politics, or whatever else en- 
gaged their masculine minds at the moment. 
When with the ladies, Bertram invariably 
singled out Isabel, Paul Herbert talked to 
Trixie and Lady Ethel, which naturally left 
Harold to Gertrude. The young girl, unused 
to much attention, enjoyed having a handsome 
young fellow spending most of his time on her. 
Timidly she would raise the blue orbs, pale re- 
flections of his own, and a gentle animation 
drew her from her habitual shell. Harold's kind 
heart liked to amuse this quiet maiden, who 
seemed ever ready to put others before herself. 
Lady Ethel did not shut her eyes to the risk 
she ran of throwing them together, but the 
thought of her other daughters at home weighed 
with her. Money and position did not mean 
all in all to her, and Gertrude besides had not 
the dash or good looks of the younger sisters. 
Having her eldest girl married to a man she 
loved and thus knowing her happiness secured, 
would compensate for resigning hopes of a more 
ambitious match. Trixie had astutely sur- 
mised her aunt's wishes. A little pang of 



^ A DUCAL SKELETON. 169 

pique pricked her (remembering how she had 
deemed Harold out of the question for a duke's 
granddaughter, and now her cousin, without 
the bar sinister, would gladly accept him for a 
husband). To show her indifference, she ex- 
erted herself in being especially charming to 
Paul Herbert, who had always admired his 
friend's sister. Out of harness, he appeared in 
a new light, full of life and gayety, witty, and 
spontaneous, and altogether a delightful com- 
panion. That others appreciated the young 
clergyman was soon apparent. A bishop of his 
acquaintance, spending a few days at Mentone, 
had him to dinner; the Russian countess 
swooped him off to her teas. 

"He is such an original," she would say, 
"a bric-a-brac philanthropist without cant, and 
a bom reformer and enthusiast." 

It soothed Trixie's ruffled spirits to know that 
this highly cultivated and singularly pure- 
hearted man, should relish her society and seek 
her smiles. She felt that here she scored a 
point against the fate that had so cruelly thrust 
her forth into the world without a father's 
name or blessing. When her brother's engage- 
ment brought Harold to her side for an hour or 
two of confidential talk, she enjoyed the over- 
ture on his part all the ipore from the knowl^ 



160 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

edge that he was sure his ideal friend was ap- 
parently at her feet. The tale of Bertram's 
wooing sped. To verify it. Lady Beatrice rode 
over from Nice on a bicycle, electrifying the 
staid matrons at the hotel by appearing in natty 
bloomers and a rakish cap on her head. Her 
sister remonstrated. 

<*Do you want to see me dragged to the 
ground by my skirts. It is for safety that I 
wear these much maligned garments." 

"But surely a short skirt " 

"Nonsense; knickerbockers are the correct 
thing for a wheel, and I am nothing if not 
correct." 

She approved of Bertram's choice, and was 
unusually gracious to her nephew in conse- 
quence. En famille she observed that she liked 
Yankees, notwithstanding that America was 
Venfant terrible of the Old World, which 
holds its breath in expectation of what this 
grown child will do next, and believing it 
capable of any extravagance. 

"We depreciate, yet admire, these go-ahead 
people, and not only gladly marry their daugh- 
ters, but let them knock over &mily traditions 
like so many ninepins, for the laws of the 
Modes and Persians do not exist for a full- 
fledged American girl. If it pleases her, 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 161 

she lifts dainty skirts and, showing daintier 
ankles, trips lightly across every cut-and-dried 
rule laid down by Mrs. Grundy. If thrones 
were within reach, this clever maiden, with the 
utmost sang-froid^ would mount to the royal 
seat, but the man is still unborn who will ever 
see her abdicate one." 

And no one ventured to gainsay Lady Bea- 
trice's dictum. They were lunching in the 
Layman's rooms, as Lady Ethel flatly refused 
to appear in public beside what she termed a 
most objectionable costume. 

"What cant public opinion preaches!" ex- 
claimed the emancipated sister. "We gloat 
over our scant bathing suits at English and 
foreign seaside resorts where the limbs and 
forms of apparently modest young girls, and 
fat matrons are liberally displayed to the vul- 
gar gaze of thousands, and ^nary' a grunt from 
Mrs. Grundy; but woe to the young woman 
who dons a short skirt to preclude the possibil- 
ity of transporting home microbes ,from street 
filth or catching pneumonia from damp dresses 
dripping against her ankles. When astride a 
wheel, knickerbockers and gaiters, I repeat, 
are the only sensible things to wear, and it is 
only a question of time when all women will 
use them." 



162 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

** Heaven forbid!" ejaculated Lady Ethel. 

''And after all," concludes Lady Beatrice, 
confidentially, ''where's the harm in a pair of 
well built legs?" 

Perhaps if she had been blessed with spindle 
shanks she would not have taken so kindly to 
the offending raiment. 

On account of his aunt's visit, Bertram de- 
ferred a drive with the Millefleurs. Isabel had 
sent a little note to Etoile, telling her of the 
engagement and promising to appear later in 
the day with her fiancS. Madame Millefleurs 
heard the news with deep interest. 

"Why do tears come into your dear eyes, 
sweet mamanf** pleaded Etoile. ''Are you 
not glad that these two friends are to be to* 
gether and happy?" 

"I am very, very glad, my darling;" but the 
wherefore of the tears was not explained. 

Not knowing whether the engagement was 
yet publicly announced, they refrained from 
mentioning it to Comte Jules de Yilleneuf 
when he arrived to pay his daily compliments 
to the ladies. He noted with dismay the joy- 
ful expression on Etoile's face when, looking 
at the clock, she observed that Bertram would 
soon arrive. The count's jealous anxiety had 
daily increased with the young Englishman's 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 163 

visits. It was impossible Dot to see that ma- 
dame and mademoiselle received him with open 
arms. This stirred the comit to more demon- 
strations; he had found Etoile no French bread- 
and-butter miss* though transparently pure 
and innocent. She had been brought up more 
like an English girl and possessed no false 
modesty to induce bashful poses of an inginue. 
Secretly her suitor doubted if he valued her 
frankness. It embarrassed him ; he could not 
meet her with barefaced statements, which, as 
a man of the world, he could exchange with a 
grown woman of his own set; nor could he 
pretend to this outspoken maiden that he judged 
her an ignorant baby who as yet knew naught 
of the world beyond the jingle of its rattle. 
Etoile had met his advances as signs of a pleas- 
ant friendship, and the count might have felt 
encouraged but for Bertram forever looming 
up, a veritable Gibraltar upon the matrimonial 
sea he longed to sail. Etoile's suppressed ex- 
citement roused the count to the nearness of his 
imagined danger. He was glad when, after 
lunch, Madame Milleflem*s left him a few mo- 
ments alone with her daughter. He glanced 
at the winsome face, absorbed for the moment 
in watching a kitten playing with a spool, and 
then, with a lingering regret for the proposed 
abdication of bachelorhood, gravely said : 



164 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

^^If mademoiselle would fitvor me with half 
the attention she bestows upon her pet, I should 
feel much flattered." 

**You may have all my attention," she re- 
plied, dropping the string attached to the spool, 
which rolled away, as the kitten frisked after 
it 

*^ Yoar charming mother has granted me the 
great privil^e of becoming well acquainted 
with you, and I trust that we already are 
friends?" 

"Yes," said Etoile, a little doubtfully, "I 
suppose we are what you would term ^friends'. " 

"I am now going to ask you if I may attain 
to a still nearer title?" 

The yoimg girl looked slightly puzzled, and 
the count vehemently wished she would not 
preserve such an indifferent air. It discon- 
certed him considerably and cooled the senti- 
ment he tried to evoke from the ashes of dead 
passions in his heart. Fearing to lose this 
opportunity of being alone with her, he stimi- 
bled on : 

"Mademoiselle, your gracious mother has 
met me so kindly. I am hoping you might 
accede to my wishes — ^that we might learn to 
be much to each other; in fact, that you might 
honor me sufficiently to accept the hiunble offer 
of my name, my himd, and my heart." 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 165 

The violet eyes opened wide, the rosy lips 
parted, and to the count's unfeigned disgust, 
the young girl laughed. 

"Forgive me, M. le Comte; I am rude; you 
must be in earnest, and yet it seems very funny 
tome — ^that you should dream of this for an 
instant. I am too happy at home to wish to 
change my life here for any other; and then, 
do you not see how unsuited we would be to 
each other? Tou and I think different thoughts 
and must lead different lives." 

"I thought you liked me, mademoiselle; you 
encouraged my intentions. I am shocked. I 

"It is only a little misunderstanding," inter- 
rupted Etoile. "I did try to please you and did 
accept your attentions for your own good." 

The count's surprise at this admission was 
genuine. 

"You seemed better than the ordinary society 
man one meets," continued Etoile, serenely, 
"and so I thought you worth helping. I be- 
lieved that constant interchange of thoughts 
with a young girl who haa high ideals, though 
she may often fail in living up to them, must 
be of use to you who are accustomed to the in- 
sincere jargon of society. If my little efforts 
have been thrown away, I am sorry." 



166 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

**CtelP* thought the count, "what creature is 
this, with the face of a saint, the cahn assur- 
ance of a woman of the world, and the manners 
of a child in a fairy tale?" 

"Do not he angry because I refuse an offer 
the acceptance of which would not bring you 
any happiness." 

"That is for me to judge," he replied, 
quickly; and then, his suspicions returning, he 
added, "Perhaps some one else has forestalled 
me in your affections?" 

"In my affections — yes; I have several old 
friends, but a lover — ^no." 

"Not even one young English friend?" 

The words would slip out, and a moment 
later the count regretted what his temper 
prompted. 

"So that is what you have been thinking? 
How droU. I am very fond of M. Sinclair, 
also of beautiful Mile. Isabel Saunders, ^his 
fiancie; they have been engaged since yester- 
day," and Etoile laughed gleefully at the 
count's blank face. 

His dignity was much wounded. "You do 
not consider my disappointment, just as I was 
anticipating a life bien range^ with a charm- 
ing companion by my side." 

"Put some one else there," suggested the 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 167 

young girl, as Isabel and Bertram appeared 
with Madame Millefleurs. Felicitating the 
radiant couple, the count inwardly raged and 
hastened his departure as soon as his confused 
thoughts could submit a reasonable excuse. 
But, returning to his hotel, on due reflection, 
he experienced a sense of relief. He had done 
his duty and failed in his matrimonial efforts. 
Had he succeeded, the vision of being tied for 
life to a clear-eyed young Diana, who turned 
ordinary ideas topsy-turvy, did not seem the 
summit of happiness to his conventional mind. 
By the time he had dined and had his chasse 
cafS, he felt elated at his regained freedom, 
ready to forgive the ^^ petite*^ who so mockingly 
refused him. He called for pen and paper and 
wrote to the old marquis, asking for future ad- 
vice, and decided, while awaiting an answer, 
to devote himself to those diverting Anglais he 
had lately met through Isabel Saunders. 



168 A DUCAL SKELETON, 



XV. 

The Duke of Beaulieu was not surprised to 
receive Bertram's letter, announcing bis engage- 
ment and begging for bis grandfatber's ap- 
proval. 

Lady Etbel bad piped tbe prelude to tbe 
pretty tale, in one of ber cbatty epistles. A 
kind response came to botb young people; tbey 
must be married on tbeir return to London, as 
tbe writer was getting old and sbould like to 
bave a bonnie bride at Stratbways to enliven 
tbe last days of a lonely life. He boped to bear 
of Trixie following ber brotber's good example. 
Lady Etbel was deligbted to find ber fatber 
roused from tbe melancboly memories of tbe 
dear dead. Sbe sent anotber long missive, 
expatiating on Isabel's good qualities of beart 
and mind. *'Sbe is a sweet, unaffected girl," 
sbe wrote, "and will make Bertram a splendid 
wife. Tbey are beartily in love witb eacb 
otber in good old-fasbioned style. Her motber 
and aunt bave just arrived, botb refined and 
cbarming, and absolutely gentlewomen. Ac- 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 169 

cording to certain London lights, Isabel would 
be more of a success (that is, more decidedly- 
American) if her mother was loud-toned and 
aggressive and her father a plebeian pork- 
packer, instead of a college bred man as well 
as a rich banker, or if she herself spoke with 
a nasal twang and said 'popper' and *I 
guess,' or ignored fine table manners, which 
in these days of ready money and good clothes 
is often the only hallmark distinguishing 
between social sterling silver and Britannia 
metal." 

The advent of Mrs. Saunders robbed Bertram 
somewhat of the daughter's society, but the 
mother pleaded that he would soon have her all 
to himself. During these short, enforced 
separations, the restless lover would wander up 
to Villa Millefleurs, sure of sympathy and wel- 
come there. The dark-eyed hostess, soft voiced 
and singularly beautiful, reminded him of some 
dethroned queen casting mournful glances back 
upon her lost kingdom. There was a pathetic 
droop to the red lips which appealed to Bertram, 
and he felt a longing to offer her his services to 
right unknown wrongs, to defend her from un- 
known dangers. Hers seemed an ardent nature 
repressed and as guarded as Etoile's was open 
to light of day. The two, so closely entwined 



170 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

in each other's existence, yet so dissimilar in 
manner and appearance, formed a constant pic- 
ture in Bertram's thoughts, which he longed 
that Trixie could share; but though she con- 
ferred admiration, there was no willingness to 
cement a budding friendship. 

Lady Layman's card, with her daughter's 
and Trixie's, mingled with less aristocratic bits 
of pasteboard, in the card receiver at the villa, 
and several visits had been exchanged. Bertram 
fancied that Madame Millefleurs was slightly 
ill at ease in his aunt's presence. It was as 
though some light which usually illumined her 
beautiful eyes was suddenly quenched; she 
seemed to shrink into herself with a vague 
nervousness. He had also noticed this manner 
once when Nera, recovered, came to offer him 
renewed thanks. The old housekeeper hesi- 
tated in her speech and her mistress was evi- 
dently relieved when the short interview was 
over. Though Bertram regretted that there 
should be no intimacy between Trixie and his 
new friends, his steps still turned to the Villa 
whenever a spare hour himg on his hands. 
Etoile's rare nature, combining childlike inno- 
cence with much mature thought, and her 
mother's fascination, so subtle he hardly knew 
how to define it, enhanced the natural beauties 



A DUCAL SKELETON, 171 

of Villa Millefleurs, whether sitting on the log- 
gia talking and listening to Madame or follow- 
ing Etoile's fleet steps through the grove and up 
steep paths to far-reaching views. Bertram 
felt the restful sense of being in complete sym- 
pathy with his surroundings. He spoke freely 
of StrathwaySy the late duchess, the duke, 
Oxford days, his future plans, Isabel, and his 
friends, Harold Jewett and Paul Herbert. 

^' Bring them here," said Madame Millefleurs 
one day. ^'I should like to meet these two men 
who are so much to you." 

Bertram wondered whether the villa would 
mean enchanted ground to them, as it did to 
him. That particular afternoon they had gone 
with Lady Ethel, Trixie and Gertrude to Monte 
Carlo by train. Count Villeneuf was also of 
the party. He had been with them a great 
deal of late, and shown the ladies much atten- 
tion. After going through the Casino and stop- 
ping a moment at the tables to watch the games 
and hear the eternal ^^faites voire jeUy mes- 
sieurSy^^ Paul Herbert had declared that even 
the concert could not reconcile his conscience 
to the general atmosphere of the place, and he 
greatly preferred the outside to the inside. A 
general protest arose. 

"The music is so good, this afternoon," ob- 
served Lady Ethel, glancing at a programme. 



172 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

*'And I am going to play once for Miss Lay- 
man; it will be virgin luck," said Harold. 

^'You must not desert the ladies/' remarked 
the count, 

^'I should like to walk about the gardens; 
the afternoon is so lovely it does seem wicked 
to be cooped indoors. Why can we not parade 
about, Mr. Herbert, till the others join us?" 

And so Trizie sailed off with the young 
clergyman, while the coimt raised his eyebrows 
and marveled at this marked preference. He 
had been much impressed by ^^cette belle Made- 
moiselle Sinclair j^^ and admired her sharp 
speeches, stately beauty and proud manner. 
Could it be possible that she would condescend 
to listen to the compliments of a cure? for Jules 
de Villeneuf could not weigh his neighbor's 
value, not seeing beyond the cloth. Out in the 
sunshine the prophesied compliments were not 
forthcoming. A sudden depressing silence 
seemed to possess Paul. He strolled on, listen- 
ing to Trixie, whose spirits rose, aroused by the 
dread that her company was not needed. As 
they paused on the terrace overlooking Monaco, 
with the sea restlessly lashing its rocks, she 
quoted the old Monegasque saying: 

<* Son Monaco sopra iin scoglio 
Non semino e non raccoglio 
E pur mangiar volio/' 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 173 

^^ And it will eat to the end of the chapter 
bodies and souls of luckless wights, who are 
lured on to their destruction by this Lorelei of 
the Eiviera." 

^' Still, we cannot deny her charms, nor re- 
frain from loving her." 

^^If we did not refrain from loving the sirens 
who charm us during life's short voyage, I be- 
lieve a cairn of honest men's bones would 
whiten each Lorelei'd rocky perch." 

^'Tou speak as if you had passed them by, 
Mr. Herbert." 

"Perhaps." 

" Would none tempt you to linger and listen 
to her music?" 

"None, Miss Trixie." 

"It was 'Trixie' when we first met^" said the 
girl a little shyly. 

"You were a child then," 

"What does it matter €ifter all? Are not 
men and women but children of a larger 
growth?" 

"Some of them; not those of your type." 

"Am I then so mature in the ways of the 
world?" 

"Tou are no ing&nue.^^ 

"Thank you." 

"Have I been rude? Pardon me. I am not 



174 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

a society man; one loses the art of putting 
things prettily when absorbed in work." 

*' All work and no play makes Jack a dull 
boy.'' 

^'I am dull, no doubt, and to you and others 
my life must seem meager and sBnemic, ^ut if 
you could see the heart of it, you would find it 
full blooded." 

"You misjudge me, Mr. Herbert, if you 
think I do not appreciate your devotion to your 
poor people. Both Bertram and I fully appre- 
ciate your sacrifice." 

Her colder tone jarred on him; he was in a 
mood to criticize himself as well as her. Lately 
the ground had been slipping from under his 
feet; he feared to drift lest he should find his 
will power unresponsive from lack of use when 
needed. Paul believed in holding himself well 
in check. If once the artistic side of his 
nature had free rein, there was no telling how 
far it might run away with all his resolutions. 
Trixie's beauty appealed to him; he was grati- 
fied that she should care for his admiration, but 
his common sense dictated a short sermon to his 
inmost egOj preaching restraint, lest he should 
commit himself to what would be a blunder for 
both. "We are absolutely unsuited to each 
other," he thought^ "and besides I should like 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 175 

Harold to have another chance." A pause had 
ensued. 

^' Let us change the subject/' he suggested, 
"we are becommg too personal." 

Surely a cold breath had come up out of the 
sea as he spoke; she shivered in the sunshine. 

The words were nothing, but his eyes had 
lost their friendliness and the lines around his 
mouth grew stem. Just as she fancied her 
personality had influenced his iron will, and 
she was secretly rejoicing that Harold's idol 
should bow to her charms, he was slipping 
away from her altogether, and it stung her to 
realize how much she had valued his good opin- 
ion, how nearly ready she had been to listen if 
he had spoken of something warmer than 
friendship — ^not that she was actually in love 
with Paul, but she believed in him utterly and 
placed him on a pedestal above other men. It 
flashed across her that he might have wished to 
try his power and now drew back, afraid of 
going too far. Had she, then, shown her pref- 
erence so openly? Her cheeks fliamed at the 
suggestion. She heard him saying something 
about standing in the smallest domains on earth, 
and turning to him with a brilliant smile, she 
said: 

"Monaco, with its miniature court, is like a 



17G A DUCAL SKELETON. 

pocket edition of a kingdom ; yet Monte Carlo, 
containing endless possibilities of tragedy and 
comedy, is after all but an epitome of life, 
where most of the passions have full play." 
*' And some of the virtues, you admit?" 
''It is hardly a place to rehearse them." 
*'Yet even within reach of the Casino, one 
might meet with sacrifice and renunciation." 

His voice had a sober ring. The cold, salt 
breath may have reached him also. Trizie's 
manner softened. If he but felt that retreat 
signified renunciation, she could — in part — ^for- 
give him. 

''There are some natures so saintlike that 
even cobblestones may serve as praying carpet 
and every milestone as an altar. For myself 
— I need much paraphernalia to accompany 
devotion, male surpliced choir, swinging in- 
cense, unearthly music, worshipping crowds, 
and the knowledge that my sacrifice is being 
fully appreciated, before I would walk a single 
heated ploughshare for duty's sake." 

Paul Herbert smiled ; perhaps he read Trixie 
better than she knew, but once having decided 
that their friendship had reached a limit be- 
yond which it would be unsafe to ventiure, noth- 
ing could turn that decision a hair's breath. 
She misunderstood the smile. ^'If it is but a 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 177 

jest to him — How could she pay him l^back in 
his own coin?" her nerves were on edge and 
got the better of her judgment. She ignored 
the noble nature proven to her by a hundred 
golden deeds. Paul's smile was a bit of tinsel, 
flapping in her eyes and hiding the sterling 
metal. Assuming a nonchalance, she abruptly 
changed the subject, and gayly asked if he was 
going to tie Susie Hubbard's nuptial knot. 

"They have not asked me yet; I did not 
realize that the wedding was to be so soon." 

"Isabel has arranged it should be before we 
all leave; Susie has no near relatives and there 
was no need of dragging on the engagement. 
Mr. Mordaunt's people are coming on from 
England, and Mrs. Saunders is rousing herself 
to superintend a lavish trousseau.^* 

"What delightful Americans they are.'* 

"Were you prejudiced against our cousins 
across the salt pond?" 

"No, but some I have met were not to my 
taste." 

"Alack! how many Englishmen are not to 
mine," laughed Trixie. 

"Perhaps your fate wills you to lead a life 
abroad." 

"Perhaps it does," she answered lightly. 

Next day he recalled this trivial talk with 
mingled feelings of r^ret. 



178 ' A DUCAL SKELETON. 

*'See» the tide has turned,'' exclaimed Trixie, 
watching the blue waves which the breeze was 
beginning to rufiSe into tiny white foam caps. 

^'If we could but know what it takes out 
with it far into the ocean I" 

^'Driftwood, seaweed and all the beach flot- 
sam and jetsam." 

But the tide that day bore besides a girl's 
lost hope and left it buried fathoms deep be- 
neath the sea. 

As they turned to retrace their steps through 
the gardens, Comte Jules de Yilleneuf met. 
them. 

^'I have been sent after the wanderers; the 
ladies wish to have ices and we are to join the 
rest at the entrance." His manner was ex- 
tremely courteous; inwardly he fumed at the 
tete-h'Ute. If a little bird could but have told 
him what these two had been discussing^ but 
no friendly songster was forthcoming to warble 
so much consolation in his ear. He was some- 
what comforted later by Trixie's. talking to 
him all the way back to Mentone. He was to 
dine with the Laymans and hurried to his own 
hotel to dress for dinner. An answer from the 
marquis awaited him. It urged him to form 
an alliance with one of those ^ ^charming and 
rich English and American girls who flocked 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 179 

to the Riviera each season." The letter con- 
cluded with a sharp reminder that the writer 
could never make a will in favor of a bachelor 
relative. These words and the t&te-h-Ute stroll 
at Monte Carlo, decided the count's course of 
action. After dinner he seized a favorable mo- 
menty when none could overhear his words, 
and formally made Trixie an offer of his hand. 
She turned away her head a moment in silence, 
and then said : 

"Allow me till to-morrow morning to con- 
sider your proposal, M. le Comte, and whatever 
my decision, believe me, I can appreciate the 
honor you have done me." 

At least, she had not refused him, and this 
to the count savored of success. He strutted 
home elated in anticipation of her "yes" on the 
morrow. Harold, who had lingered talking to 
Bertram, abruptly asked Sinclair if he had ever 
met a Sir Lester Barnstable. 

"Never heard of him; who is he?" 

"Not a jewel, I imagine, from what I heard 
at Monte Carlo this afternoon. Well, good- 
night; I must pay my third duty visit, or my 
obliging patient will be reporting me," and he 
wended his steps to the villa which the invalid 
had rented for his short stay at Mentone. As 
he walked in the starlight, puffing at a cigar 



180 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

and meditating on the remarks dropped about 
''Sir Leeter and his amiable Lady Beatrice," 
this message was being wired from Paris to 
Nice: 

''To Lady Beatrice Millbanks, 

"Hotel de PEurope, Nice. 
. "Am detained on important business. Impos- 
sible to come this week. 

*'L. B." 



A DUCAL SKELETON* 181 



XVI. 

Harold's patient proved perverse enough to 
become convalescent, and Sir Julian telegraphed 
for his colleague to return to harness, though 
the patient demurred and offered a blank 
check for Harold to name his own terms; 
but his chief insisted. When the good-bys 
were said, Gertrude's face blushed its own tale. 
Harold winced; he was far too tender-hearted 
to knowingly bring pain into any woman's life, 
but his sympathetic nature lent him soft looks 
and gentle tones, which could be easily con- 
strued, by too willing listeners, into love's 
language. What he read in the young face at 
parting, added one more pang; the first and 
deadliest pain came the morning Bertram burst 
into his room with the strange news of Trixie's 
engagement to Count de Villeneuf. The two 
men discussed its every point; took this, to 
them, amazing fact and turned it over and then 
went at it again and fairly tousled it as a dog 
would a bone; but they could find nothing to 
justify its existence. Bertram stormed: a 



182 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

Frenchman forsooth ! Was not honest Anglo- 
Saxon blood sufficient for her mightmess? 
Harold, loyal to the last, was fearing for her 
happiness in foreign lands. His own forlorn 
hope lay buried long ago; its bones seemed to 
rattle in its grave at the suggestion of his be- 
loved lady entering wifehood with eyes so wil- 
fully blinded. The episode with Paul Herbert 
puzzled them. Well as they knew him, neither 
would have ventured a question to relieve their 
minds, and their pros and cons were shots in 
the dark. Could Trixie have refused him? 
Had he proposed? Harold felt that he was 
wandering in a maze, and the clew slipping 
through his fingers. Both Bertram and H!arold 
marveled and sighed and sighed and marveled, 
and came to no conclusion as to the why and 
wherefore this girl, near and dear to both, had 
signified her desire to become C!oimtess de 
Villeneuf. Holding her hands, with farewell 
good wishes on his lips, Harold vainly tried to 
read rebuttal to his fears, in those proud dark 
eyes, but the lowered lids barely lifted enough to 
fiash a friendly glance at her old playfellow. 
His heart thumped rebelliously against his 
ribs. "Why should a French count win this 
one priceless woman?'* was ever the refrain it 
sang as Harold sat in the " train do luxe^* and 
watched the Riviera vanishing in the distance. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 183 

When Isabel Saunders brought the news of 
Trixie's engagement to Villa Millefleurs, Etoile 
exclaimed : 

**The coimt has lost no time in carrying out 
my suggestion ; how amusing." 

**But it is so sudden; does Miss Sinclair 
really love him?" There was a tone of anxiety 
in Madame Millefleurs' voice, and Isabel won- 
dered if it arose from regret at Etoile's decision. 

^'I cannot understand Trixie; I tried to 
sound her on the subject, but she crept into her 
shell, and that is such a tight fit I could not 
crawl in after her. Bertram is quite distressed 
about it." 

**Where is Bertram?" broke in Etoile. 

"He is coming later, with Paul Herbert," 

"Ah, your other friend has left?" 

"Poor fellow, his patient would get better; 
very inconsiderate of the man, but sick people 
are often very selfish, though I confess that in 
some ways this one was a model patient, for he 
only expected Mr. Jewett to feel his pulse three 
times a day, and telegraph once to Sir Julian. 
The rest of the time the young doctor spent 
with us." 

"Happy medico P^ 

"You are so sincere in your flattery that one 
has to believe it, dear Madame Millefleurs. 



184 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

Ton always make people think the very best of 
themselves." 

*^Is that not better than letting them dwell 
on the worse side of their natures?'' 

"Perhaps," said Isabel, doubtfully; "but 
most men are so vain, it seems a pity to en- 
courage them in their conceit." 

"Do I encourage them?" pleaded Madame 
Millefleurs. "No, no," she continued, depre- 
catingly, "I would only reassure Erring mortals 
that we are all blessed with a dual nature and 
that we can live up to our ideals as well as 
sink to our temptations; but encourage conceit, 
and in men — never I' ' She finished the sentence 
with a pretty gesture, throwing out her hands 
as only a Frenchwoman can do gracefully, and 
the American girl thought for the hundredth 
time how charming her hostess looked when 
animated, how she endowed words and action 
with grace peculiarly her own, and how unlike 
she was to ordinary women. No wonder Etoile 
dreamed day-dreams with such a mother. In 
fact, there were moments when these friends' 
fascination fairly jarred upon Isabel as some- 
thing to be feared rather than admired. This 
arose from no jealousy on her part; she was 
far too generous and warmhearted to cultivate 
envy. Nevertheless, there had been moments 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 186 

since her engagement to Bertram when his in- 
timacy with the Millefleurs made her wince. 
To hear them call him by his Christian name 
invariably nettled her. Her common sense re- 
buked these feelings as childish and ill-natured, 
but Isabel was in love, and common sense, 
under those circumstances, had little hearing. 

Sitting with Madame Millefleurs in the long 
drawing room, she chatted of her plans and of 
Strathways, often echoing Bertram's words, 
and enjoying the pleasant hour, yet wished that 
she need not share the charms of Villa Mille- 
fleurs with her fiancee. Etoile had soon 
dropped out of the conversation. She often sat 
silently interested and would listen when others 
talked, giving them a smile or glance from the 
violet eyes when words seemed unnecessary. 
She was at the window, watching the changing 
sky, with its shifting light and gray clouds 
presaging a shower, while Isabel and her 
mother discussed thejpros and cons of matri- 
mony. It almost sounded sacrilegious to 
Etoile, for love in wedded lives, with its in- 
finite mysterious possibilities, filled her heart 
with awe. The idea of marriage without love 
was, according to her belief, an unpardonable 
sin. In a dreamy way she pondered upon the 
mismatched couples she knew, and wondered 



186 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

whether in the wide world any one existed who 
might be all in all^to her. 

It was rarely that Etoile let her thoughts 
wander in these bypaths; there was much yet 
unexpressed in her nature, muc^ which she felt 
without actually ^defining. In her limpid soul 
floated many thoughts which, if [dragged out 
into words, would have lost their delicate 
beauty just as the finest sea weeds when fished 
out of the sea lose their exquisite tracery and 
become a mere confused wet mass. The clouds 
gathered faster; Etoile slipped out of the room, 
for she wanted to get some flowers before it 
rained. Watching the sky she ran down the 
drive into the garden, where Bertram and Isa- 
bel had first divined the old, old story. She 
quickly filled a basket with scented blossoms; 
the sky lightened; perhaps the shower would 
pass by; she would have time in any case to 
wander to the rocks and bring back some of the 
trailmg vines which grew there in profusion. 
On the way she picked more flowers, till the 
basket overflowed with its fragrant burden. 
Pushing aside the shrubbery, she knelt on the 
ledge of rock which bordered the road from the 
entrance to Villa Millefleurs. It was here that 
Sir Lester Barristable had first seen her. Etoile, 
to carry the vines, himg some of them round 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 187 

her neck and wound others round her sunny 
head. She was just starting f or home, when a 
vivid flash of lightning, followed by a peal of 
thimder, drove her hastily to the shelter of a 
miniature cave, hidden in the bushes among 
the rocks. 

As the first heavy drops of rain began to fall, 
Bertram and Paul were nearing the villa. 
They hurried their steps to escape a soaking 
and sought refuge from the shower under the 
stately trees guarding the gates of Villa Mille- 
fieurs. 

"Not the best nonconductor for lightning," 
observes Bertram, scanning the skies. "If this 
continues, we are better in the open." 

"We shall be drenched to the skin and ap- 
pear before your goddess like drowned rats." 

"I know of a place among the rocks; let us 
try to get there while the rain lifts," and Ber- 
tram started, followed more leisurely by his 
friend. 

They left the road and scrambled up the 
ledge. Bertram peered among the bushes, 
"Here it is," he exclaimed, and just above 
them they saw an opening into a natural cav- 
ern — ^a gap of darkness fringed with gay 
geraniums, a great shelving rock forming the 
roof of the cave. 



188 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

^^It is clearing and there is a rainbow," re- 
marked PauL 

The sun was suddenly shining, the rain still 
falling, but softly, as if its gusty violence had 
already been spent. As the young men raised 
their eyes toward the heavens, a vision appeared 
out of the darkness of the cave, a veritable 
Flora, arms flower laden and vines trailing 
over the shoulders down upon the white drees 
and crowning the golden curls, framed in the 
dark mouth of the grotto, with the sim stream- 
ing on her upturned face, and above the blaz- 
ing arch of promise in the sky. 

Bertram felt a throb of pleasure that his fairy 
friend should dawn upon Paul Herbert's vision 
in picturesque guise. 

^^Etoile," he cried, ^4ookat the bow behind 
you." 

The girl, gazing at the brilliant tints in the 
heavens, remained silent, while the men 
climbed to her side. 

"What, have you no word of greeting?" 
asked Bertram. 

Etoile slowly turned toward them, noticing 
Paul for the first time; her beautiful eyes 
looked into his with surprise and evident pleas- 
ure, but she did not speak. The splendor of 
the skies seemed to have fallen upon her, the 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 189 

violet of the rainbow in her eyes, the gold of 
the sun in her hair. 

*' Where is your welcome, dear Dryad? This 
is my friend, Mr. Paul Herbert." 

She held out a slim white hand; a smile 
parted her lips : 

** Forgive me if I stared, but you are so like 
my St. George; you know the one, Bertram, it 
hangs m my sanctum." 

"Yes, the tutelary god of your day-dreams, 
Etoile; you should appreciate the compliment, 
PauL" 

But the clergyman was not in a responsive 
mood; he clearly saw that the young girl was 
out of the common, that she was endowed with 
beauty and the higher gift of personal charm, 
but his life as 'a preacher who tried to follow 
out the precepts he taught, had its limitations 
and repressions, and made him apt to cavil at 
all that savored of affectation or gush. He 
believed so thoroughly in enthusiasm that he 
scoffed at mock heroics or sentimentality, and 
though broad in sympathies and tolerant of 
other's creeds, he was sometimes inclined to be 
impatient with fads and poses, particularly 
when they cropped up among the feminme por- 
tion of his acquaintance. 

"It is not," he thought, "that this child (for 



190 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

she is scarcely more than one) intends to pose, 
but her picturesque surroundings and an evi- 
dently romantic mother's adoration, create an 
unreal atmosphere at the villa. A little plain 
diet of conamon sense and poverty would prove 
an excellent substitute for this moonshine fare." 

Bertram noticed and regretted his friend's 
mood, without divining the wherefore. 

Etoile seemingly accepted it as belonging to 
a stranger to whom hospitality must be shown. 
^^He is wise and good, and, from Bertram's 
account, almost a saint. I suppose the wayside 
posies seem scarcely worth the plucking to 
minds that soar to crags and edelweiss," and 
thus meditating, she walked between the two 
men through the long cypress-shaded drive to 
the house. 

Madame Millefleurs accorded her new guest 
a gracious welcome. As the shower was over, 
they sat on the loggia and drank chocolate, 
while the clouds drifted away and the clearing 
skies promised a glorious sunset. 

"I have news for you. Miss Saunders; Mr. 
Mordaimt has asked me to take his duties for a 
couple of weeks while he and his bride spend a 
few days in Venice." 

*^Then I shall have a chance to hear one of 
your sermons, Mr, Herbert; we shall muster a 



\ 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 191 

large party and sit directly under the pulpit. 
You must join us, Etoile, for you may never 
again have such an opportunity.** 

Noticing the young girPs hesitation, Paul 
said quickly : 

^^liifodemoiselle no doubt considers us heretics 
and could not wish to endure a half -hour's dis- 
sertation on our doctrines.'* 

"We are Protestants, monsieur, but I fear 
not very strict church women," replied Madame 
Millefleurs. 

"And I should almost fear to hear your ser- 
mon," added Etoile. 

"Pray, why, mademoiselle?" 

"Tou work among the poor, you comfort the 
sick, you pray with the dying; so your life is 
your best sermon. I know this from Bertram. 
Your actions preach so much, I should dread 
that mere words might teach less and create a 
sense of disappointment in you." 

"I am afraid my little girl is most unortho- 
dox and perhaps I should say, unconventionaL 
She shocks many people." 

"Oh, mamanP* 

"From your own telling, your French cousins 
turned pale at your speeches," laughed Isabel. 

"Oh, if you had only seen them listening to 
my views upon marriage; it was just before 



192 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

we met you, cMre amie. There was a houseful 
here, such good girls, educated in convents and 
believing that they were to courtesy and say, 
**Yes, thank you," when their parents pre- 
sented a parti to them," and Etoile's rippling 
laugh sounded like music to Paul Herbert. 

When he left the villa he carried away two 
distinct impressions, which remained with him 
for many an hour. Firstly, that Bertram was 
absorbed in his new friends; secondly, that 
Isabel was aware of this and resented it. 

A few mornings afterward, in a stroll about 
the town, Paul visited the hospital. He passed 
through the neat but bare-looking halls into 
the wards, following by a gentle- voiced sister, 
who evidently took much pride in the institu- 
tion which to her visitor seemed very meager 
after the well-appointed hospitals he knew at 
home. In the men's ward Paul Herbert 
caught a glimpse of some ladies, but did not 
look in their direction a second time. He was 
standing near a cripple, to whom the sister was 
speaking words of cheer, when a sweet smile 
lit up the poor man's face, while his eyes turned 
toward the other side of the bed. He appar- 
ently hardly noticed the sister. The clergyman 
followed his glance and saw Etoile, with her 
hands full of flowers. She bent over the pa- 
tient, not noticing the Englishman. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 193 

^'See, I do not forget; here are the flowers I 
promised you." 

^^You are an angel, signorina," murmured 
the cripple. 

"You may be unorthodox, but you believe in 
charity." Paul had joined Etoile, and was 
watching her with fresh interest. 

^'Not charity, the word is mistranslated; it 
is love — ever love; I do believe in that, and 
daily lament to see my friends fussmg and 
fuming over the non-essentials of life, till they 
have no time left for the essentials— and love is 
the greatest of these. If we could only elimi- 
nate the selfish, belittling, conventional side of 
our everyday life, trivialities would wilt and 
die by the wayside, like idle weeds, and in 
their stead sweet flowers of truth and love 
would bloom across our path." 

"Etoile is day-dreaming again," put in 
Madame Millefleurs, linking an arm in her 
daughter's. 

"Second thoughts are best," meditates Paul. 
"The girl is an enthusiast, and the genuine 
type is so rare she should forgive me for 
doubting hers; and enthusiasm is the Alpha 
and Omega of my creed. Were not Confucius, 
Buddha, and even Christ Himself, the most im- 
conventional enthusiasts of their day, hearken- 



194 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

ing to no vox populi^ but to the voice of God? 
They brushed away the cobwebs of conven- 
tiouality at their feet, and lifting their heads to 
the stars, strode on, voicing aloud undying 
truths to eternity." 

Once again that week Paul met Etoile. He 
had heard of the little cemetery overlooking the 
town, and wandered there one afternoon. Tak- 
ing the walk leisurely, he went through the 
narrow streets of the upper part of Mentone, 
noting the picturesque bits which artists love — 
here a group of black eyed women, knitting 
and chatting in an old doorway with Murillo 
babies tugging at their gowns, there a quaint 
belfry, rising up into the cloudless blue sky, 
anon a glimpse of blazing simlight at the end 
of a narrow dark street, at length the climbing 
road beyond the town to the hilltop, where 
many weary strangers have laid their bones to 
rest. Paul sauntered among the graves, some 
more pathetic than others in their neglect, and 
slowly made his way to a place where there is 
a fine view of Mentone and the Mediterranean. 
Bending over a modest mound, marked by a 
single headstone, was Etoile, intent upon 
decorating the grave with flowers. She did not 
seem surprised to see Paul, but held out her 
hand in greeting. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 195 

*^ "Is not the view beautiful? I should like to 
lie here some day." 

"May that time be far hence,'* and the words 
were uttered fervently. "What friend are you 
remembering?'' 

"No friend," replied Etoile. "This is a 
stranger's resting place, and as no one seems to 
recollect him, I bring a cross or wreath for the 
anniversary of his death. I am sure it would 
please him if he knew that at least he is not 
quite forgotten." 

Paul Herbert, without speaking, smiled at 
the sweet, upturned face. 

"Now I see you as you really are," she ex- 
claimed, voicing an uppermost thought. 

She rose from her kneeling position and 
dusted the earth marks from her white dress, 
and added : 

"A smile that comes from your heart tells 
more than many talks. At first you seemed 
stem ; now I know you hold my creed and be- 
lieve in love, too." 

"Of course I do." 

"Then open the ring and let him in," 
hmnmed Etoile. 

"Into your world?" asks Paul, who had 
heard of her fancy. 

"It is yours, mine, and that of all those who 
love." 



196 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

*'But tboro are a thousand different modes of 
expressing love; remembering the dead is one." 

"The living have so many to remember them 
— the dead so few," said the girl wistfully. I 
sympathize with the professor's little daughter, 
who, brought up on a strong diet of mythology, 
let her heart go out to the neglected gods and 
was discovered one day kneeling before a tiny 
altar which she had secretly built in the gar- 
den: * Dear Father Jove,* she prayed, 'everyone 
seems to have forgotten you, but I will keep 
this altar for you, and pray to you always.' " 

"I verily believe you would like to pay your 
own devoirs to the heathen deities." 

Etoile laughed. ''I plead guilty. to a long- 
ing for a glimpse of Pan and the fauns and a 
stray nymph or two. I used to long to find a 
fairy, and when a child used to invoke them in 
every woodland dell — ^alas! in vain." 

"If there are any left I think their abode 
would be Villa Millefleurs." 

The Innocent violet eyes gazed doubtfully 
at Paul Herbert. Was he laughing at her. 

"Ruskin believes in fairies," she said as if 
in self defense." 

"And I believe in Ruskin," hastily explained 
her companion, sorry to spoil her pretty fancies 
and forgetting how he dictated a plain diet of 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 197 

facts as useful antidote to Etoile's exuberant 
imagination. 

With him, as with others, her simple, 
straightforward nature won an almost instcm- 
taneous recognition. Near her he felt in the 
presence of a pure, fearless soul, whose exist- 
ence was a prayer, who unconsciously preached 
to others her own innocent creed. She inter- 
ested him immensely, but her very charm, com- 
bined with Madame Millefleur's fascination, 
made him fear for Bertram; it was obvious 
that his friend was becoming more and more 
absorbed in these two women. What would be 
the end? Not only Isabel was to be considered, 
but Etoile herself. Where was she drifting to, 
with those loving eyes lighting up at the bare 
mention of Bertram's name? Paul felt in- 
wardly sthred to action and outwardly ex- 
tremely helpless to lift the least finger in warn- 
ing. 

"It may be Kismet,*' he thought; **yet I am 
no fatalist, but the circumstances are excep- 
tional." 

Etoile had been gazing dreamily into the dis- 
tance, and while Paul silently watched her, she 
turned suddenly and said : 

"You who are a clergyman and know what is 
right and what is wrong, should be able to tell 



198 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

me why I love Qod and yet do not like to sit in 
church ; is this so very wrong?'* 

"It certainly seems scarcely right to love 
God, yet absent oneself from His house." 

"But His house is everywhere; the hills, 
the sea, the plains full of blossoms, ail speak 
to me of Him. Out of doors prayers come to 
me without preface or text. All tells me of 
His love. Are not the flowers themselves called 
*God's smiles?* The simshine on the ocean, 
the moon's silver silence in the heavens at 
night — ^all preach to me of faith and love." 

"That is natural religion; revealed religion 
might bring you even more delight — the 
glimpse into the sanctuary of the Holiest." 

Etoile clasped hei hands and listened rever- 
ently to Paul. He was touched by the girl's 
attitude and would have continued in the same 
strain, but here Nera loomed in sight. She 
had been taking a stroll while her charge deco- 
rated the stranger's grave. The clergyman, 
having heard of Bertram's little adventure, 
looked closely at the woman. She appeared 
confused and endeavored to hurry away. 

"Are you sure we have not met before?" he 
asks in English, much to Etoile's surprise. 

Nera shakes her head and mutters somethingr 
in French about his being mistaken. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 199 

^'Madame will be waiting/' she repeats^ 
urgently, and whisks Etoile off before another 
question can be framed. 

"I rarely forget a face; I believe that is the 
woman who came to my old rector while I was 
his curate, some twelve or fourteen years ago. 
She was in great trouble and asked his advice 
— her name was — of course — *Nera* that ex- 
plains it," and Paul smiled, amused at the 
coincident and attempt at mystification. 
"After all, it is none of my business." 

He watched Etoile disappearing from view 
and wondered what future lay in store for her 
who, though sympathizing with sorrow and 
mourning sin, had never come in contact with 
either. "When she does," he thought, "it will 
not alone take the bloom off the peach, but the 
feathery down off the butterfly winga" 



200 A DUCAL SKELETON. 



XVII. 

The Hotel des Anglais was astir over the 
Mordannt-Hubbard wedding. The actual cere- 
mony was to take place in the English chapel, 
and the reception following immediately after- 
ward would be held in Mrs. Saunders' suite, 
with an adjoining drawing room thrown open. 
Mr. Arbogast, the complaisant landlord, had 
superintended the details of the wedding break- 
fast and the rooms were beautifully decorated 
with palms and flowers. 

Susie Hubbard walked about like a girl in a 
dream, now all tears at the thought of parting 
with her friends, now radiant glancing into the 
near future where she would have a husband to 
love and protect her. and guide her lonely little 
feet to a fireside and a home. Mrs. Saunders 
and Isabel purchased and packed, and busied 
themselves generally about the trousseau and 
wedding preparations. Relations and friends 
of the bridegroom arrived from England, and 
for once the little hotel sets fraternized on the 
common ground of the approaching festivity- 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 201 

When the happy day dawned, the whole 
hotel was in' a flutter of excitement. The 
chapel was crowded, the English and Ameri- 
can colony turning out in full force to honor 
the popular clergyman and his pretty Ameri- 
can bride. Bertram, sitting next to Isabel, 
longed for his own wedding day, and his 
fiancee^ seeing the wish in his eyes, blushed 
furiously, upon which Bertram felt irresistibly 
inclined to take her in his arms then and there, 
but nobly surmounted the temptation. Paul 
Herbert performed the ceremony. 

*'The robes suit him," thought Etoile. "He 
is a true priest and fit to serve at God's altar.'* 

The wedding march ushered the wedded pair 
from the church out into their first little jour- 
ney together in life as one. At the reception 
Paul noticed tears in Etoile's eyes. 

"Does a wedding always make you sad?" he 
asked softly. 

"it is not the marriage, when it is for love, 
of course, that seems so solemn, but the thought 
of all those two hearts must encoxmter. Think 
what it would mean if poverty or sorrow 
dimmed this love; what would there be left, but 
Dead Sea fruit?" 

"The girl is waking into womanhood; may 
Heaven shield her innocency there as it has 



202 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

throughout her childhood," thought Paul as 
Lady Ethel and Gertrude joined them and pre- 
vented further Ute-ti-tite. Trixie, more hand- 
some than ever, but strangely silent since her 
engagement to the Count de Villeneuf , had 
been announced, was unusually friendly in her 
congratulations to the newly married couple. 
Paul watched this with interest. He realized 
now that at times wisdom hobnobbed with her 
intimates to some advantage. Yes, it was 
worth while to cultivate Minerva in preference 
to Venus, particularly for a man of Paul Her- 
bert's caliber. 

Lady Ethel, who liked the young clergyman 
inmoiensely, had noticed what she suspected was 
a growing admiration for Trixie on his part, 
and felt distinctly disappointed when the two, 
having drawn toward each other, drifted 
leagues apart again. She made a point there- 
fore of bringing him into conversation on every 
available opportxmity, going out of her way 
now and again to show him attention. Ger- 
trude, too, was glad to seek refuge from her 
istormy feelings in the calm haven of Paul's 
glances and sympathetic voice. One thought 
comforted her not a little; Harold had accepted 
an invitation to Thomycroft; she would see 
him during the summer^ and not at a hotel, but 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 203 

in oongenia] home surroundings. After the 
reception and breakfast, amid speeches and 
congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Mordaunt started 
ahead of time for the station, under protest and 
a shower of rice and slippers. 

As the excitement of the wedding festivities 
died down and the Hotel des Anglais began to 
assume a normal aspect, Mrs. Saunders ex- 
claimed: 

V And now, Isabel, we can go to bed early, 
and not mention the word trousseau again.'* 

Trixie, glancing round at the fading flowers 
and disordered table, confides to her fiance that 
she had been well amused, and wondered that 
her aunt. Lady Beatrice Millbanks, should have 
missed the fun. 

"Lady Millbanks — ^your aunt!" stammered 
the count, in open consternation. 

"Lady B, or Aunt B, we call her,*' answers 
Trixie, lightly, ignoring the count's start. In 
fact, she took little trouble to study his looks at 
all. 

They had mutually felt relieved when neither 
evinced a desire to be demonstrative. Count 
Jules inwardly rejoiced that his charming 
fiancSe was a woman of the world, not given to 
gushing, while Trixie, stifling the inner voice 
that cried "Wrong, wrong 1" when she accepted 



204 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

the count, was thankful that no special signs of 
affection were expected from her. The engage- 
ment had run along smoothly hitherto, without 
exciting interludes. The count, charmed by 
Trixie's beauty and manner, drew a breath of 
satisfaction when he thought of his old cousin's 
wilL This time the marquis must be satisfied. 
The only cloud in his sky was the vexed ques- 
tion of a dot. He started to soimd Bertram on 
the subject and received a vague answer to the 
effect that the Duke would do the right thing 
when the time came. Meanwhile the duke's 
answer to the announcement of his grand- 
daughter's engagement was not forthcoming. 
Trixie had wondered at the delay, but Lady 
Ethel fancied her father might have gone to 
Scotland for a short trip and not had his letters 
forwarded. With a prospective coronet in 
view, Trixie wished Lady Beatrice to meet the 
count and wrote off a nice letter asking her 
aimt to join them, but the invitation had been 
declined in a letter brimming over with good 
wishes. Nothing, in fact, would have induced 
Lady B. to meet Count Jules de Villeneuf for 
the present. She had not forgotten his intro- 
duction to her at the Cafe de Paris at Monte 
Carlo, and she was on thorns to know whether 
his discretion would veil that small incident 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 206 

from his fiancee. The day of Susie Hubbard's 
wedding found Lady B. in a state of nervous 
excitement. Nearly a month had elapsed since 
Sir Lester Barristable had been called to Paris 
on business. His short notes since then hinted 
of money embarrassments, but he had promised 
to join her in a week. At last, impatient at 
his prolonged absence and imsatisfactory ex- 
planation thereof, Lady Beatrice had written 
an angry letter, demanding his return to Nice. 
A telegram stating that business detained him 
was the sole answer. It came to her theOi sud- 
denly and swiftly as lightning out of stormy 
skies, that this was the beginning of the end. 
At first she sat stimned, letting the hours pass 
without note of time, then arousing herself from 
this apathy, she wrote a hurried note to an in- 
timate friend in Paris, humbling her pride 
enough to ask for the truth. A prompt reply 
came: "Expect the worst, ma cMrej^^ wrote 
the worldly little marquise, "these men are all 
alike. I have heard several rumors ; will make 
it my business to learn more. In a day or two 
you will learn all I know, but save your tears 
whatever occurs ; no man is worth a salt drop 
from vos beaux yeux.^^ 

A few feverish days and the bolt fell. A 
scented, pink-tinted note, with silver mono- 



206 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

gram in the comer of the paper, innocent 
enough to look at, but deadly as viper fangs to 
the waiting heart: 

"You have been grossly deceived, ma miey 

The delicate handwriting seemed to stand 
out in blackest relief. "He is a wretch, not 
worth a thought ; his engagement is announced ; 
he is to marry the young daughter of the banker 
Dunois." 

What matters the invectives the marquise 
had added to her news or the drops of balm she 
tried to instill by elaborate assurances of undy- 
ing friendship? "Engagement" and "yoimg" 
were the two words that struck homa The 
thrust was too siure not to reach its aim. 

Accompanying the letter was a Parisian 
newspaper with a marked paragraph stating 
that the well-known Englishman, Sir Lester 
Barristable, had just become engaged to the 
only daughter of M. Albert Dunois, the rich 
banker, and that the wedding was shortly to 
take place; that the bride, who was a lovely 
brunette of eighteen, had received the magnifi- 
cent"gift of Ja diamond parure from her father. 

Lady Beatrice's mail had been brought to 
her rooms by her Italian maid; the little 
enameled clock on the mantel shelf struck 
twelve; Susie Hubbard had just become Mrs. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 207 

Mordaunt, when Lady Beatrice realized to the 
full her lover's treachery. Though the room 
was warm with spring sunshine, she shivered 
and fell back among the cushions of the sofa, 
as if struck by a physical blow. She crushed 
letter and newspaper in her hand as she would 
like to have crushed the young daughter of the 
rich banker, Dunois. Her quick brain was 
evolving a hundred schemes to lure her truant 
lover back to his devoirs. She knit her brows, 
her face pale with rage; revenge, revenge, cried 
her heart. Suddenly she threw up her arms, 
dropped the crushed paper and note, and burst 
into tears. 

An hour later she telegraphed to Sir Lester 
to expect her in Paris next evening. Having 
played her trump card, she awaited events. 
Shortly a telegram was handed to her: 

^' At great inconvenience will come to Nice 
to-morrow night. — Lester." 

So far so good. She must marshal all her 
forces for her final coupy and if that failed — 
well, qprds cela le deluge. 

First, she must rest her tired brain, so as to 
be able to cope with whatever turned up in the 
coming momentous interview; secondly, she 
must prepare her prettiest tea gown, have her 



208 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

sitting room redolent with the sweetest flowers, 
and thus armed with woman's subtlest weapons 
cap'il'pie to battle for the rights which should 
be hers. According to her clouded lights, she 
had been loyal to Sir Lester and helped him 
through many an evil hour, and for a mere 
matter of money — ^with a young girl thrown 
in 

Rage for some seconds dominated love, but 
the passion she had felt for Sir Lester was too 
powerful to be trampled imder foot at a mo- 
ment's notice, though pride itself demanded the 
sacrifice. 

During the following twenty-four hours Lady 
B. suffered perhaps more than she ever did be- 
fore in her self-indulgent life. Necessity lu'ged 
a forced calnmess — even to sleeping part of the 
night. The next morning and afternoon 
dragged on their weexy length, then an early 
dinner and a small bottle of Mumm's tr^s sec. 

Outwardly self-possessed, inwardly her heart 
a tempest, she sat waiting till Sir Lester was 
announced. He bowed coldly on entering the 
room, laid his hat and gloves on a table, and 
stood facing her : 

"Well, you have your wish; lam here — ^to 
avoid a hysterical scene in Paris. Now, ma- 
dame, what do you want?" 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 209 

As she heard his cutting tones and noted the 
cynical expression of his mouth, her heart sank. 

**This is hardly what I expected you to say, 
Lester/' she began gently. ^^I do not think I 
deserve such treatment at your hands after all 
these years." 

**0h! if you are going to be retrospective, I 
fear my time here will be limited," he inter- 
rupted in the same cold tones. 

*' Lester!" cried Lady Beatrice impassion- 
ately, "is this the end?" 

When a man is tired of a woman and wishes 
to be rid of her, nothing she can say or do will 
alter his resolution; the more loving she is 
the colder he becomes; the grace and beauty 
that once charmed, appeal in vain to his senses, 
now chained elsewhere. 

Sir Lester looked with utter indifference at 
the woman whom for years he had admired 
and even liked in his worldly way. She bored 
him now; his one desire was to have this 
mauvais quart d^heur over. After all, what 
harm could she do him? Old M. Dunois, having 
accepted him as son-in-law, closed eyes peremp- 
torily upon past peccadilloes ; his pretty bour- 
geois daughter would be admitted, he fancied, 
in good English society. She would be able to 
go to les "sports" with her fashionable hus- 



210 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

band at the castles of great lords. No, Lady 
Beatrice could not influence the banker. And 
little MarieP She was a gentle schoolgirl, still 
warm from the convent, loving him in a modest, 
girlish fashion. She would believe only what 
her lover chose she should and no more. Be- 
sides, he wisely concluded that, knowing an 
open scandal would ruin Lady Beatrice's repu- 
tation, she would hesitate to parade her dis- 
appointment publicly. 

*'Is this the end?" she repeated, her voice 
vibrating with passion. 

*'0f a certain phase of our relations to each 
other — yes; it is best for both; but not the end 
of our friendship, I hope.'' 

*' Friendship!" cried Lady Beatrice, with a 
bitter laugh. 

She was looking her best, with a bright color 
in her cheeks; her graceful tea gown of soft 
lavender silk, trimmed with lace and fairy 
French fingers, was open at her throat and fell 
away from her roimd, white arms. Once Sir 
Lester would have covered neck and arms with 
kisses. How keenly she realized that she no 
longer had the power to please him ; it was death 
to feel this. She rose from the sofa and crossed 
the room to where he stood. With a quick, im- 
pulsive movement^ she threw her arms round 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 211 

his neck and laid her burning cheek against his 
face. 

Hastily he withdrew from her embrace, and, 
pushing her away, he said: "Don't be dra- 
matic; it is so wearying and to no purpose." 

For a moment she remained silent, gazing at 
him with her whole soul in her eyes, and then 
burst into wild weeping 

"I came here at your request, but evidently 
you had nothing of importance to communi- 
cate.'* 

**It is you who have the news to communi- 
cate," she sobbed. "I know of your intended 
marriage; where are your promises? Oh! you 
liar!" 

"If you are going to be violent, I must bid 
you good-evening." 

"Fool! fool!" cried Lady Beatrice. "Do 
you think you can marry another woman? I 
will prevent you." 

"And as you add threats to violence I shall 
avoid all future scenes by bidding you not only 
good-evening, but good-by." 

He seized his hat and gloves and fairly flew 
from the rooms. 

Lady Beatrice started as if to call him back, 
but realizing how useless it would ^be, threw 
herself upon the'sofa and buried her face in her 
bands, while her heart cried, "Lost, lost, lost!" 



21'^ A DUCAL SKELETON. 



XVIIL 

It was Etoile's birthday, and a fite was to 
be given in her honor. Some twenty intimates 
had been invited from Mentone, to spend the 
evening at the villa. Bertram and Billy and 
Robbie Saunders had gone up in the afternoon 
to help hang colored lanterns and aid in the 
decorations. They skurried back to the hotel 
in time to dress for dinner and escort the ladies 
in the evening. Isabel was in high spirits, 
and looked very beautiful in a pale blue gown, 
and fairly rivaled Trixie, who seemed graver 
than of yore. Count de Villeneuf was also 
more silent than usual and in no frame of mind 
for fHes. Late that afternoon he had received 
an unwelcome missive from the old marquis, 
in which his relative plainly called him a fool 
for not having the question of Trixie's dot set- 
tled at once, and added that upon inquiry the 
marquis was grieved to learn that the young 
lady whom the count sought in marriage, 
though no doubt estimable, was no suitable 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 213 

alliance for a Yilleneuf. Had Jules known 
that there was a bar-sinister in the Beaulieu 
family and that Bertram would never succeed 
to the title? And last, but not least, Lady 
Beatrice would prove an objectionable acquisi- 
tion to any family circle. Therefore the mar- 
quis vowed he would disown his cousin if he 
proceeded to consummat«e this proposed mar- 
riage. 

As a gentleman, the count felt aghast at the 
thought of breaking his engagement with 
Trixie; as a man of the world, with whom 
money was of almost paramount importance, 
it appeared terrible to anger the marquis and 
probably lose a future fortune. Between the 
two fires the count squirmed but arrived at no 
decision, except that next morning he would 
have an interview with Bertram and insist 
upon a definite answer as to settlements and in- 
quire into the truth of the marquis's statement. 
He admired his fiancee enough to feel a genuine 
regret at the idea of losing her and of appearing 
imgallant in her eyes. Trixie was so preoccu- 
pied by her own perplexities that she barely 
noticed the count's increasing gloom imtil Isa- 
bel rallied her on not keeping him in better 
spirits. 

It is most likely indigestion from too much 



(( 



214 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

Welch rarebit or caviar^ or whatever else our 
prospective lords and masters indulge in before 
retiring," carelessly remarks Trixie. 

*^If Bertram appeared to me in the light of a 
prospective master, I fear he woidd have to re- 
main in prospective ad infinitumy^^ rejoined 
IsabeL 

Villa Millefleurs, illmninated by a hundred 
tiny lamps and lanterns among tiie trees and 
around the house, looked like foiryland, with 
its terraces and foimtains white in the moon- 
light, and the clear sky and twinkling stars 
overhead. The guests wandered about, enjoy- 
ing the beauties of the place until an impromptu 
concert drew them to the long drawing room. 
Etoile, flitting about like a veritable foiry, 
beamed with happiness, her only regret being 
that unavoidable duties had forced Mr. Mor- 
daimt to have his wedding the day before. 

"They would have enjoyed it so much, 
sighed Etoile. 

"They are probably enjoying themselves 
quite as much," observed Paul Herbert, to 
whom the remark had been half addressed. 
"Just wedded, combining the sweets of the 
honeymoon with Venice the beautiful! How 
ideal! Do not wish them back even for this 
charming /(^<e." 



A DUCAL SKELEtOK. 215 

**Soon it will be our honeymoon tbey will 
discuss," whispered Bertram to Isabel. 

There was a wealth of love in the shy glance 
she gave him for answer. The young gu-1 was 
supremely content that night; every one fa- 
vored her engagement, and Bertram seemed to 
her as a king among men. He was so honestly 
in love, and Isabel fully appreciated the value 
of his affection. 

Trixie missed none of these little asides of 
her brother's courtship and resented them 
keenly. Was it necessary to parade his attach- 
ment publicly? And she grumbled that be- 
tween hiafiancie and the Millefleurs her brother 
rarely spent an hour with her now. 

Paul Herbert could not but draw a contrast 
between the couples — the joyous brightness of 
Bertram's engagement and the unceasing gloom 
overspreading Trixie's. He did not sympathize 
much with her, for he felt that it was with 
wide open eyes she had willed to select the 
count as her life's partner. 

Etoile looked at Trixie and wondered, and 
sighed that the sister of her dear friend could 
accept the hand of a man whom she did not 
love. 

*'If we only dared to speak frankly to her." 

^' Truth is a sword that should rarely rest in 



216 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

its scabbard, yet never strike home save for the 
suppression of wrong." 

But Etoile had no time to listen to Paul Her- 
bert's philosophy. An artist claimed her atten- 
tion ; charades were proposed. 

''We must have costumes," said the artist. 

Nera is called and soon produces some domi- 
noes and theatrical dresses which Etoile and 
her cousins had used two winters earlier in a 
play they gave for the benefit of a local charity. 
A long cloak and old-fashioned cape are re- 
quired, and Nera, busy helping the artist in 
draping the actors, suggests that an old trunk 
might contain what is needed. 

''If mademoiselle would not mind getting the 
things, as servants might ransack one's belong- 
ings." 

Etoile, supplied with a bunch of keys, flies 
upstairs to the attic, opens Nera's trunk and un- 
earths two old-fashioned cloaks, snaps the lock, 
runs back to her guests, shaking out the gar- 
ments as she hurries downstairs. In the half 
light of the hall a little book falls from the folds 
of one of the wraps, unnoticed by the girl, who 
trips along, intent upon the charades. 

" The massive gate of circumstance 
Turns on the smallest hinge." 



. A DUCAL SKELETON. 217 

Etoile, unconscious that those leaves flutter- 
ing to the ground mean the turning point in 
her life, passes into the dining-room, where the 
artist is still costuming his dramatis personce. 
The little impromptu sketch is successful, and 
at its termination dancing commences. 

As a servant hurries through the upper hall, 
her foot strikes against the prayer book, which 
is picked up and deposited on a table in the hall 
below. 

The hours sped by. Trixie, restless, was 
unable to enjoy the fUe^ and the coimt's gloom 
increased. Every one else seemed to take the 
young artist's view, who declared that life's 
goblet should be held in both hands and no 
heel-taps left. 

It was growing late, and some of the guests 
had begun to depart, when Bertram, separated 
for a few minutes from Isabel, was leaning 
against the wall of the loggiay listening to the 
music and watching the moonlit gardens below, 
where the gay little lamps and lanterns flashed 
like gigantic fireflies among the trees and shrub- 
beries. Suddenly Etoile's white gown gleamed 
before him. 

^^ Bertram, come with me a moment; I have 
discovered something most extraordinary." 
The girl's voice was vibrating with suppressed 
emotion. 



218 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

He followed her retreating figure down the 
cypress Imed road toward the rose garden. 
The night was warm and stiU, and the splash 
of the fountain sounded invitingly cooL Etoile 
sat down upon the marble seat where Bertram 
and Isabel sat the day they first came to the 
villa. Two small red lamps hung above them 
in the trees, casting a soft rosy light over 
Etoile's sheeny dress. Taking a seat beside 
her, Bertram exclaimed : 

''What is the matter, my dear; you look so 
startled, I am prepared for Pandora's box, at 
least." 

''Oh! Bertram, I don't know what to think; 
my head is in a whirl. I was standing, talk- 
ing with Mr. Ashley, in the hall, and absently 
picked up this little book from the table, open- 
ing and shutting the clasp until something 
written inside caught my attention. I looked 
at it more closely and could not wait a moment 
without asking some one what it meant. I 
stole up to maman and showed her the 
book. She glanced at it and said, 'It is not 
mine,' evidently knowing nothing about it. 
She was engaged with Mr. Saunders and Lady 
Ethel, and I did not like to disturb her. Nera 
had gone to bed. As it concerns you, too, I 
felt I must have you see it." 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 219 

"What concerns me? You are not very 
coherent, dear Etoile." 

For answer she opened the small silver- 
clasped prayer book. On the fly leaf Bertram 
saw some writing; he held it toward the light 
of one of the little red lamps and read : 

Waymore: 

Bertram Reginald Sinclair, b. Aug. 30, 

1870. 
Beatrice Mildred Sinclair, b. Oct. 5, 1872. 
Henry Beginald, Earl Farraday, d. 
November 10, 1874. 

RIP 
"Etoile Marie Millefleurs, b. April 21, * 1875, 
Toulon, France. 
"August Millefleurs, d. Jan. 2, 1889. 
"And now abideth these three, faith, hope, 
and charity, 
"And the greatest of these is charity. 

"Susan Black. '^ 

As the meaning of the entries dawned upon 
Bertram his heart almost stopped beating. He 
tried to speak, but for a moment his lips re- 
fused their- office. 

"What does it all mean, Bertram, and who 
is Susan Black?" asks Etoile, much agitated. 

"Nera," murmurs Bertram, as his memory 
travels back to the day when he and Trixie 
were sent for from their tea in the "Roost," and 



220 A DUCAL SKELETON, 

the housekeeper had kissed the children 
good-by." 

''Neral" gasps Etoile, ^'and all these years 
maman and she never told me, and why, oh ! 
why has there been any secret?" 

^* Don't you see? can you not understand? 
Susan Black was my father's housekeeper and 
devoted to my mother." 

"Your father's housekeeper I What, Nera — 
our Nera?" 

"She joined you when you must have been 
about three or four years old," answers Ber- 
tram. His voice sounds unnatural and his 
face has grown very pale. 

"But why did she make a secret of this?" 
persists Etoile. 

"Great heavens! Are you blind? Do you 
not realize what these entries signify to you 
and to me?" 

Bertram had involuntarily sprung to his feet, 
and Etoile mechanically rises, too, her lips 
parted, her violet eyes wide open with a startled 
expression. 

"Oh I tell me the truth," she cries. 

"You know my story; this is a sequence. 
By these dates, you were bom five months after 
our father's death, and the duchess never knew 
of your birth, oh ! Etoile, little sister I to think 
that your mother is mine I" 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 221 

In his excitement he had not noticed how his 
words affected Etoile, until she swayed forward 
and fell at his feet. 

"Good God!" he cried, kneeling down and 
lifting the girl from the gromid, "this shock 
may kill her." He hastily carried the insensi- 
ble light figure to the fountain's edge and 
splashed some water in her face. 

Slowly the white lids unclosed, and Etoile 
sat up, leaning against Bertram, as he knelt by 
her side. After a few moments' silence, she 
whispered, "Bertram, is it true that I am your 
sister?" 

♦* Dearest, yes; I have no doubt of it," 

" Oh 1 I must ask petite maman at once, ' ' she 
cried, struggling to her feet. Then suddenly, 
she stood quite still, "But she has kept it a 
secret all these years — ^my own lovely, loving 
maman; we must not pain her, must we, Ber- 
tram, if she does not wish it known; and yet," 
her voice broke a little, "my father, that is, M. 
Millefleiurs, must have known; he adored 
maman.^* 

"For her sake, he saved her name." 

Bertram's word tore away the last shred of 
the veil before Etoile's eyes; the whole sad 
story of her mother's love and sacrifice lay be- 
fore her. A cry of despair came from her very 



222 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

heart. She threw up her hands as if fighting 
some invisible force. Bertram took her in his 
arms. Instinctively he felt all she suffered. 

'^Dear sister, I and Trixie will share it with 
you, and remember that petite maman is still 
our dearly loved mother." 

Every nerve in his body was tingling to 
think that this gracious, adorable Madame 
Millefleurs was the woman who had brought 
him into the world and had been all in all to 
his father. 

^'Yes, yes,'' sobbed Etoile, letting her golden 
curls rest on his shoulder, ^ Ve will love her all 
the more now, and never let any one know this 
great secret. Oh, Bertram, my heart is so full. 
Comfort me, comfort me." 

Silently her brother kissed the upturned face 
and thanked God that his prayer had been an- 
swered. So absorbed were the two that neither 
heard approaching footsteps. As Etoile, be- 
wildered, realized with sorrow and joy that this 
revelation would mean grief for her mother and 
gladness for her dear brother, Isabel and Trixie 
and the count, who were looking for Bertram, 
stood before him. He raised his head; Etoile 
started away from his arms and was about to 
speak, when Bertram laid a warning hand upon 
her arm and whispered: "For our mother's 
sake, we dare not divulge our relationship." 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 223 

There was a moment's portentous lull and 
then to Etoile's excited imagination the very 
heavens seemed to open and the end of the 
world to he in sight. 

All that actually happened was a sharp 
"Jfon Dieur^ from the count; a groan from 
Trixie. It was Isabel who spoke first; she was 
very pale and the moonlight silvered her blue 
dress. 

"Here's your ring," she said in a low, but 
distinct voice, drawing from her finger the 
handsome emerald and diamond ring Bertram 
had given her. 

She held it out to him; he did not move, and 
the ring fell to the ground, where it lay, spark* 
ling, between them. 

"Oh, Bertram! how could you be so false?" 
cried Trixie, finding words at last. 

"Speak to her; oh! say something," im- 
plored Etoile, clasping her hands in despair. 

"I cannot explain matters," said Bertram in 
dull, heavy tones. "I love you, Isabel, and 
always shall. Etoile is to me as a sister. 
You doubt me, and I can only repeat that I love 
you and am loyal." 

Isabel turned away as if she had not heard 
him. "What are we waiting for?" she said 
coldly. "Let us go home," and without an- 



224 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

other glance at Bertram, she left the rose gar- 
den, followed by Trixie and Count Jules de 
Villeneuf. 

Etoile sank down on the bench, trembling in 
every limb. ^'Ohl this is terrible," she cried. 
"Bertram, what is to be done?" 

"Nothing," he answered between set teeth. 
The hopelessness of righting himself in Isabel's 
eyes was only too apparent. 

After a few bitter minutes, Etoile rose. "I 
must find maman; my heart calls for her; she 
must know the truth now. God is good; He 
will help us all." 

She kissed Bertram on the forehead. 

"I will wait here till our mother sends for 
me," he replied. 

Nearly an hour passed; the fountain splashed 
soft music; the little lamps flared up and went 
out and the moon bathed the whole landscape 
in a white light; the breath of hundreds of 
roses and violets ladened the night air with 
perfume; carriage after carriage rolled by with 
departing guests, and then absolute silence fell 
upon the place, save for the low voice of the 
foxmtain. 

A thousand conflicting emotions filled Ber- 
tram's breast — ^joy at the thoughts of reunion 
with a mother long wished for, and keen an- 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 225 

guish at Isabel's action, but the lover for the 
moment was subservient to the son« All the 
garnered tenderness of years seemed to leap 
forth with welcome for a mother's touch and 
kiss. A shadow in the moonlight, and he 
looked up, expecting Etoile. Madame Mille- 
fleurs slowly approached him, one delicate hand 
lifting the trailing robe; the other was pressed 
against her bosom as if to still the beating be- 
neath her bodice. Her large dark eyes were 
luminous with unshed tears. Bertram hastily 
rose to meet her. He took her hand and raised 
it to his lips. 

She seated herself beside him on the marble 
bench, and falteringly tried to say something 
to him. 

^^ Explain nothing yet; it is happiness enough 
to know that we belong to each other, dearest — 
dearest mother." 

"Oh! my darling," she cries, and after the 
hungry interval of years, holds her boy to her 
heart 



226 A DUCAL SKELETON. 



Trixib was cut to the soul at the unexpected 
development of affairs. That Bertram, her be- 
loTod brother, whom she supposed the very soul 
of honor, should be guilty of such treachery, 
was almost beyond belief. In a few halting 
sentences she conveyed to Isabel her sympathy 
and indignation. With her aunt and cousin 
her reserve broke down, and she talked freely 
and fiercely. The ending of the engagement 
seemed a real catastrophe to her. The three 
women sat discussing the events of the evening 
until almost dawn. Isabel had gone to her 
room and refused to talk the matter over, even 
with her mother or aunt. 

'^I have been mistaken in Bertram, and there 
is nothing more to be said." Her pride kept 
emotion in check and she would not show gap- 
ing wounds to her little world, only unbending 
behind bolted door. 

Paul Herbert, hearing from Count de Ville- 
neuf what had happened, determined to await 
Bertram's return from the villa. The count 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 227 

also decided not to sleep without eliciting some 
word from Sinclair about the dot. 

Bertram surprised both men by appearing 
with tranquil mien, reflecting the gentle light 
of loving woman's eyes. Paul took his arm 
and they walked up and down the deserted 
hotel garden. 

** No, 'I cannot explain matters to you,'* re- 
peated Beitram to his friend. ''I am very 
happy and unhappy. I worship Isabel, and 
Etoile is to me as a sister; my conduct is 
blameless, though it may not seem so to others. ' ' 

"It will be difficult to convince Miss Saun- 
ders of that," replied Paul emphatically; **to 
see one's fiance embracing another young lady 
is not calculated to inspire much confidence in 
a right-minded girl's heart." 

"I am loyal to Isabel, all the same." 

"Can you not trust me?" asks his friend 
earnestly. 

"You, if any one; but there are reasons which 
render all explanations impossible." 

And with this Paul Herbert w&s obliged to 
depai-t, wondering what the mystery could be 
and determined to try to solve it. 

With the count, Bertram was more curt At 
the word dot he stiffened, a hint about Lady 
Beatrice sent a thrill of rage through him, and 



228 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

a question as to the bar-sinister capped the 
climax. 

**I doubt if my grandfather will consent to 
settle this evidently vexed question of dot ac- 
cording to your satisfaction, and as our family 
history seems to raise doubts in your mind, I 
should advise you to reconsider the eligibility 
of your proposed alliance with my sister, and 
advise her of your decision." 

Then, icily bidding him good night, Bertram 
turned on his heel and left the count to unpleas- 
ant meditations. 

In the office the night porter handed the 
young Englishman a telegram. It was from 
the old rector, Mr. Jewett, asking him to re- 
turn to Strathways immediately, as the duke 
was dangerously ill. Bertram sat down and 
wrote three notes, one to Madame Millefleurs, 
explaning his sudden departure, another to 
Trixie, telling her to wait until he telegraphed 
the duke's condition, as Mr. Jewett was some- 
what of an alarmist. The third was to Isabel 
and ran thus : 

**If you loved me as I love you, nothing 
would shake your trust in me. You have 
my whole heart, and in your soul must know 
it. I love Etoile dearly as a sister. God 
knows that her pure nature would not let her 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 229 

love me otherwise than as a brother. She had 
just gone through very deep waters; I com- 
forted her in all innocency. There is nothing 
more to add. I love you, Isabel, and always 
shall, until this little life is over, and then I 
hope to love you still better and still more 
purely, throughout eternity." 

After a short, imeasy nap, Bertram left for 
England, and his three notes were the first 
heralds of his departure. 

Lady Ethel, and Trixie, and Gertrude were 
much disturbed at the news of the duke's ill- 
ness; they began to pack so as to be able to 
start at once, if needed at Strathways. Lady 
Beatrice had to be told and they were discuss- 
ing sending a telegram to Nice, when the count 
offered to go over and take a message instead. 
He had his own reasons for wishmg to hear a 
little more about the wide-awake widow who 
so often scandalized her compatriots abroad. 

Trixie accepted his offer gladly; in her pres- 
ent anxiety and trouble, his presence seemed to 
irritate her. 

Paul Herbert, distressed at the general state 
of affairs, decided to pay a visit to Villa Mille- 
fleurs and see if any solution to Bertram's con- 
duct could be gleaned there. As he climbed 
the hill the recollection of his first visit came 



230 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

vividly back. All Etoile had said since only 
confirmed his impression of her high nature. 

''She cannot be in fault," he thought, and 
though appearances were against Bertram, 
Paul Herbert felt that somehow there must be 
an explanation, though for imknown reasons it 
was not yet forthcoming. When Madame 
Millefleurs appeared in the loggia^ where Paul 
sat awaiting her, he was struck by her manner. 
The nervousness so often noticeable of late had 
vanished; a great calm seemed to possess the 
woman, as if she had entered upon a haven of 
her desire after a stormy passage. There were 
signs of late stress in the lines across her broad 
brow, and dark circles shadowed her eyes, but 
peace had cx>me on healing wing, and Paul 
Herbert recognized that he stood in the pres- 
ence of a soul that had suffered and conquered 
after long struggle. 

Madame Millefleiurs' reticence was disarmed 
by the clerg^yman's eloquence. He spoke lov- 
ingly of Bertram and pleaded that the happi- 
ness of his friend's life was being sacrificed, 
unless some one volunteered information. 

The beautiful dark eyes grew troubled. 
''Surely Isabel would have love enough to trust 
a nature so loyal as Bertram's?" She ventured 
this tentatively. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 231 

Paul scouted the idea. Miss Saunders was 
very charmiDg, but inclined to be positive and 
wilful. Having established the theory of her 
fianc&s unfaithfulness, she could not or would 
not lightly shake it off. Etoile, pale, and 
quieter than usual, joined them. She listened 
with anxious eyes. 

^'I think monsieur is right; Isabel would not 
easily forgive what to her seems a great wrong. 
Ohl maman cheriey why not trust this true 
friend?" 

Madame Millefleurs turned a shade paler. 
Was this needed? Did Etoile estimate the cost 
of confession? 

Paul watched the mother and daughter, won- 
dering what was to be the outcome if they con- 
cluded to break the silence that hemmed in 
Bertram's trouble. 

*'Let me think it over; Monsieur Herbert 
will excuse me for a little." 

Alone with Paul, Etoile glanced pleadingly 
at him: **Will you like us just the same when 
you know?" she asks. 

'*Why should I not?" 

"Some people would feel differently, yet Ber- 
tram told me how good you have been to him." 

For a moment her sentences, seemingly dis- 
connected, puzzled Paul; then, suddenly, with 



232 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

one of those intuitions, or brain waves, which 
come to some highly strung, nerrous people, be 
knew the truth. Nera, Mrs. Black, the beauti- 
ful long sought-f or mother, Trizie's dark eyes, so 
like Madame Millefleurs. Now that his mind 
caught at the clew to the story, the rest followed 
easily. 

^^Beg your mother to explain what she can to 
Miss Saunders; I know that is best and that 
this young lady will appreciate Madame Mille- 
fleurs' courage in speaking." 

He rose to leave. Etoile held out her hand. 

"You have divined our secret,** she said 
simply, her eyes filling with tears, and a wave 
of color flushing her pale face. 

Paul held the little hand a moment longer 
than necessary: ** Whatever I 'have realized 
from putting two and two together is sacred, and 
all sorrow but endears my friends to me." 

"All sorrow — but not all sin," said Etoile 
sadly. 

"It is not for me to judge the past; that is 
God's province. I take people as I find them, 
and, believe me, mademoiselle, I am a friend 
to you and yours." 

Some hours later Madame Millefleurs' card 
was handed to Isabel, as she sat writing a let- 
ter. Controlling the surprise she felt at this 



A DUCAL SKELETON, 233 

visit, she signified her readiness to receive her 
visitor. Mrs. Saunders, who had been consid- 
erably agitated by the events of the past night, 
hastily withdrew to her room. Isabel smiled 
as she sealed and directed the letter, and left it 
lying on the table. **I am glad this was writ- 
ten before she came," and with this thought 
she rose to greet Madame Millefleiurs, who at 
once came to the point. 

**I have called to tell you why you saw Ber- 
tram Sinclair take Etoile in his arms last 
night," she began. Her voice trembled, but 
she continued bravely, "Bertram's happiness 
must not be sacrificed ; you are entitled to know 
the truth. 

Isabel noticed her agitation, and said gently: 
"Do not distress yourself, dear Madame Mille- 
fleurs; I know you are honorable and Etoile 
also; say nothing to me now.^' 

"But Bertram " 

Isabel held up her head i»x)udly. "I have 
had time to think things over; his note this 
morning came as an answer to my thoughts. 
I do not understand Bertram's conduct, which 
startled me last night into inconsiderate action, 
but I do believe and trust him with my whole 
heart and have written, assuring him of this. 
There is my letter, just finished as you arrived. " 



234 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

Madame Millefleurs' eyes filled with swift, 
glad tears. ** You will be repaid for your trust 
by a life's devotion," she said softly, ^^and 
now, more than ever, you deserve to know the 
truth.'' 

And so Isabel learned that Bertram had 
found not only a mother, but a sister. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 235 



XX. 

Arriving at Nice, Count de Villeneuf called 
on a friend and heard much to confirm his fears 
regarding Lady Beatrice, and he decided to 
leave his message at the hotel. He wrote a few 
lines, informing her of the duke's illness, and 
asked that the note might be delivered at once. 
The clerk to whom it was handed hesitated, 
and then observed that it was doubtful whether 
her ladyship would get the note immediately. 
There had been some trouble; the two hotels 
were endeavoring to hush it up. Had M. le 
Comte then heard nothing? Considerably 
alarmed, the count demanded ''as a friend and 
relative" to hear what had happened. Piece- 
meal all the sensational story was related. 
There had evidently been a quarrel; Sir Lester, 
alack ! too well known to all the employees, 
called on Lady Beatrice the night before. He 
had not been in Nice for a month, and only re- 
mained a few minutes, when he betook himself 
to another hotel near by. Some time later — ^the 
hour uncertain — Lady Beatrice had imobserved 
left her apartments and followed Sir Lester to 



236 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

his hotel, ascertained his rooms and gone there 
while he was in the cafL She had been recog- 
nized by a waiter. Sir Letter went to his rooms 
at about midnight, and directly afterward two 
shots were heard. When the frightened serv- 
ants opened the door, they found the English- 
man on the floor, dangerously wounded, but 
refusing to give the name of his assailant, and 
declaring it had been an accident. Lady Bea- 
trice had vanished. The police sniffed out the 
affair, but the hotel people were determined to 
give no definite information, feeling that pub- 
licity would be detrimental to their interests. 
Lady Beatrice was ill in bed and no one was 
allowed to approach her but the Italian maid. 
Sir Lester Barristable had telegraphed to Paris 
for a friend, who was expected shortly. 

This scandal was the last drop in the count's 
cup. Leaving the note to be handed to Lady 
Beatrice by her doctor, he took the next train 
for Mentone, quietly packed up his traps and 
took French leave of his friends. En route 
to Italy he breathed again, and at the first 
station telegraphed to the marquis that his 
wishes had been carried out. The train had 
hardly taken the count out of Mentone when a 
letter was handed to Trixie. She opened it, 
glanced at the signature, knit her brows and 



A DUCAL SKELETON. '237 

read slowly from the beginning. It was writ- 
ten in the count's best English : 

^'Mademoiselle: Permit me to express my 
great regret to inform you of the illness of 
Lady Beatrice Millbanks. I left a note to be 
remitted to her by the doctor. Also, it is my 
sad duty to tell you that there has been a scene 
terrible between your aunt and her friend, Sir 
Lester Barristable. It is perhaps* not to be in 
the journals, but most people know it privately. 
Sir Lester is shot. By whose hands it is not 
necessary to say. Believe me, also, most hon- 
ored maaemoiselle, that I am desolated to tell 
you my family are not content that we marry 
ourselves. I am not a rich man and my wife 
must naturally bring some dot, which your ex- 
cellent brother could not assure me of. But 
besides this, I have ascertained the secret you 
did not impart to me — ^the reason why monsieur 
voire frdre cannot be the duke following. 
This and the notriety which Lady Beatrice has 
given to herseK, push me to a triste task. I 
must separate from your too charming society. 
From my heart I am wounded at the termina- 
tion of our engagement. I beg you to me be- 
lieve always 

"You devoted and desolated servant, 

"Jules de Villeneuf. 

"Mentone, le 22m Avril.'* 

A small bomb could scarcely have caused 
more excitement in Trixie's little circle. Her 



2^8 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

aunt and cousin and her friends were most in- 
dignant at the count's epistle, although they 
secretly rejoiced that she was rid of him. Isa- 
bel openly congratulated her. 

After Madame Millefleurs' visit, Trizie had 
been told that Bertram was to be gladdened by 
a letter from his fiancee which would obliterate 
the painful episode of 'Etoile^s fit e. For her 
brother's sake she thanked heaven that the fates 
had been kind to him, but she still felt dissatis- 
fied at his conduct, and would not forgive Etoile 
for what she insisted must then be her fault. 
Isabel, at Madame Millefleurs' urgent request, 
refrained from telling Trixie the truth until 
Bertram returned, and she vainly tried to for- 
mulate adequate excuses for Etoile. 

The news about Lady Beatrice, however, 
swallowed up all other considerations for the 
time being. Lady Ethel was so shocked at this 
fresh catastrophe, coming so soon after the 
news of her father's illness, that she completely 
collapsed. Gertrude, roused out of her usual 
calm, got her mother to lie down and sent for a 
doctor, who ordered complete rest and hinted at 
nervous prostration. 

Trixie felt unable to leave her aunt and 
cousin while they needed her care, for Gerturde 
was not strong. Besides she scarcely felt a de- 



A DUCAL SKELETON 239 

sire to mix herself up with Lady Beatrice's 
affairs. It was Paul Herbert who instantly 
suggested that he had better go to Nice. At 
first Trixie refused the oflEer, but Isabel pointed 
out that there was no one else to go, and in^ 
Christian charity some one should try to help 
Lady Beatrice in this sore trouble. 

"It is all so disgraceful," cried Trixie with 
flashing eyes and burning cheeks. She could 
not ignore that she had been thrown over by the 
count partly because of her aunt's actions. 

Paul had promised to dine at the villa and 
he drove there in the afternoon to make his ex- 
cuses. Madame Millefleurs and her daughter 
listened to his story with deep interest. Etoile 
changed color more than once; her violet eyes 
were wet with tears; sin and sorrow had been 
brought home to her at last, and Paul regretted 
that he should be tke means. He was en route 
for the station, and made his story short. As 
he rose to leave, Etoile touched him gently on 
the arm. 

"Take me with you," she said. 

"Impossible!" exclaimed Paul Herbert, con- 
siderably startled by the proposition. 

*^ Chdre petite^ you are dreaming," cried her 
mother. 

"No, no; it is so clearly my duty. Her 



240 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

other relatives are unable to go, and if they 
went their righteous wrath would interfere with 
their pity ; but I have only sympathy with such 
dreadful grief. The sorrow caused by sin is 
surely the worst of alL When Lady Beatrice 
realizes that I love her, she will not mind hav- 
ing me near her. You know, petite maman 
what a good nurse I am. Think of her broken 
heart, and only a paid maid by her side. Dear- 
est, you who love sad people too, will not re- 
fuse to let me go with dear Monsieur Herbert." 

Etoile's arms were aroimd her mother's neck 
as she spoke. Madame Millefleurs looked at 
her daughter in silence for a moment and then 
said quietly: 

**You are right, little girl; but I must go 
with you, as chaperon, though I feel that it 
will be best for you to see Lady Beatrice alone, 
and not tell her I am at ITice. If Monsieur 
Herbert will kindly wait a few moments, we 
will accompany him." 

And so the three started together on the 
errand of mercy. 

Since guessing the outline of Madame Mille- 
fleurs' story, Paul Herbert had felt closely 
drawn to her and Etoile, partly owing to their 
being Bertram's mother and sister and partly 
for their own sakes. The dread that the charm 



A DUCAL SitELETON. 24l 

of their society should prove baneful to his 
friend had alone prevented him from giving 
himself up unconditionally to the pleasure of 
their friendship. 

Etoile remained silent on their way to Nice, 
but Madame Millefleurs seemed to find relief, 
after years of restraint, in unburdening herself 
to some one she could trust. It was thus that 
Paul learned the details of her marriage with 
the old merchant. He had been a friend of her 
father's, and had seen her as a child. On Lord 
Henry's death, Estelle Le Comte, not liking to 
return to the aimt whose roof she had forsaken, 
and having no parent or near relative living, 
decided to return to France and hunt up one of 
her father's old friends. The idea of keeping 
her unborn babe to console her widowed heart 
had flashed into her mind on the morning of 
the duchess's visit. Mrs. Black aided her in 
carrying out the plan and her financial affairs 
were placed in M. Millefleurs' hands. The 
elderly business man had fallen violently in 
love with Estelle, and offered marriage and the 
adoption of her child as his own. His devotion 
had touched her heart and she became his wife. 
They moved to Toulon; none knew the date of 
their marriage, and Etoile was born to a home 
and father. When the child was about four 



243 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

years old, her mother fell ill of a fever, her life 
being despaired of. M. Millefleurs hearing 
Mrs. Black's name mentioned, sent for her, and 
she became Nera, beloved by Btoile. 

Paul pondered over these details, wondering 
what Trixie would say when she heard the 
whole story. She had never felt much love for 
her unknown mother, and keenly resented the 
blot on her name. Still she must realize Ma- 
dame Millefleur's charm, and love her and- 
Etoile. The idea of some happiness shining 
through the gloom now surrounding his friends, 
gave Paul Herbert genuine pleasure. He was 
most unselfish in his affection and ready to 
spend himself freely for others. He could, 
therefore appreciate the feelings which prompted 
Etoile to go to Lady Beatrice Millbanks. 

Reaching Nice, they drove to the Hotel de 
I'Europe, and Etoile gained admittance to her 
aunt by sending word to the Italian maid that 
Lady Beatrice's niece wished to see her. As 
the young girl entered the ante-chamber to the 
suite, the maid, seeing a stranger, tried to stop 
her, but Etoile determinedly passed on into the 
sitting room. It was darkened, and huddled up 
on a couch lay Lady Beatrice, her face turned 
toward the wall. She turned slightly on hear- 
ing a step. 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 243 

**Is it you, Trixier* 

"No, it is I, Etoile, Trixie's sister." 

"What!" exclaimed Lady Beatrice, for an 
instant forgetting her misery and sitting up m 
sheer surprise. 

The girl knelt down beside the couch and in 
a few words told her story. Lady Beatrice lis- 
tened in a dazed way, passing a hand over her 
brow, as if to still her aching head. When 
Etoile had finished, Lady Beatrice murmured : 

"Yes, you are very like my brother; I won- 
der Ethel did not see the resemblance. You 
have the family coloring. And Trixie and 
Bertram are like your mother. How odd it all 
seems." 

A wan smile passed over her face; she moved 
as if to get up, and caught sight of her own dis- 
ordered reflection in a mirror opposite. She 
was still in the tea gown worn the night before. 
It was crushed and torn, her soft light hair fell 
upon her shoulders and her eyes were red from 
weeping. She looked abjectly wretched. 

"Oh, heavens 1 I had forgotten; he may be 
dead," and she flung herself down again upon 
the couch, in a paroxysm of tears. 

Etoile, still kneeling, gently laid a cool little 
hand on the burning face: 

"We have sent to his hotel to learn the latest 



244 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

news; you will soon know. Courage, dear 
Aunt Beatrice; Qod is merciful; we are pray- 
ing that He will not lay this crime at your 
door. I have come to stay with you awhile 
and you must let me love you very much.*' 

For forty-eight hours Sir Lester hovered be- 
tween life and death; then his strong constitu- 
tion won the day. The incident was hushed 
up and only a hint of it crept into the papers. 
Etoile remained most of this anxious time at 
the Hotel de I'Europe, fighting the devils of 
despair that sought to take possession of her 
aunt's soul. 

Madame Millefleurs remained near, and felt 
thankful when on the third day Etoile believed 
her duty done and was ready to return to 
Mentone. 

Lady Beatrice, humbled to the dust, afraid 
of meeting her sister and Trizie, clung to this 
new niece who, in her direst hour of need, had 
come to comfort her. She longed to return to 
England, knowing her father was ill, but 
dreaded the effect of an interview with him if 
he knew the truth. Etoile assured her that he 
would never be told. At last she decided to 
take a trip to Switzerland and put time and 
space between herself and the misery suffered 
at Nice. She sent a message to Trixie: 



A DUCAL SKELETON. ^45 

"Tell her," she said to Etoile, "that pride 
goeth before a fall, and never to forget that 
being human, we are all likely to err, and let 
her thank her stars she is well rid of that 
count, whose title was the only decent thing 
about him." 

Before she left, a telegram from Strathways 
brought reassuring accounts of the duke's 
health. Then the talk dwindled to an on dit 
and mere club echo, and Nice forgot one un- 
happy woman's existence, who sought to cool 
her burning heart amid the ice and snows of 
towering peaks, till some of the calm of the 
mountains entered her soul. She answered 
home letters, but the snap and sparkle of her pen 
was gone. She spoke vaguely of her future 
plans; in her own mind she had decided to re- 
main abroad indefinitely. 

As soon as Sir Lester was able to be moved, 
he returned to Paris, and a month later mar- 
ried little Marie Dunois. 

It was a great relief to Trixie when Bertram 
telegraphed good news, for she felt she could 
not bear one straw's weight more. Lady Ethel 
on the sofa, semiinvalided for a few days, 
Qertrude in tears, the duke's illness. Lady 
Beatrice's terrible behavior, the count's letter 
breaking her engagement, all combined to tax 



246 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

her powers of eoduranoe to the uttermost. She 
was grateful to Paul Herbert for his tactful 
kindness during these days of anxiety and 
worry. He cheered her concerning the duke^s 
illness, smoothed over the stinging shame of 
the Nice scandal, and talked common sense 
about the ending of her engagement. Without 
a trace of anything approaching sentiment in 
his manner, he conveyed to her a distinct im- 
pression of warm friendliness that was most 
consoling to her wounded pride. 

The evening that Etoile and her mother re- 
turned home, Paul and Isabel accepted an invi- 
tation to dine at the villa. A pleasant surprise 
awaited the young American; Etoile putting 
her arms around her neck, kissed her, and, 
holding up a small parcel, cried : 

"It is yours if you guess right.'* 

But it was hers, although she failed to divine 
the contents, and the engagement ring once 
more shone on her hand. Nera had picked it 
up in the rose garden during Etoile's absence. 

Mrs. Saunders was spending the evening 
with Lady Ethel and Gertrude. Trixie, feel- 
ing restless, had gone for a stroll by the sea 
wall; she felt out of tune and lonely; life 
seemed such an utter failnre. She did not re- 
gret her own engagement was at an end, but 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 247 

she did resent the cause promptmg the count's 
letter. The stigma of her birth burned into her 
soul that night. She sat down, looking out 
across the sea, and watched the twilight deepen 
into darkness. Her heart was very heavy and 
her thoughts flew back to early days when, un- 
beset with care, Bertram and she improvised 
games in the bare playroom or exchanged 
secrets at the ''Boost," and intermingled with 
each picture of the past she saw Harold, ever 
her devoted playfellow. The night she refused 
him came vividly before her. Had she blindly 
thrown away her happiness after all? A great 
wave of regret swept over her. No one else 
had loved her so unselfishly and truly. To 
him, at least, no shadow marred her maiden 
worth; she had reigned as proud queen in his 
heart once — ^and now? She sighed, and lo! his 
voice sounded in her ears, and Harold, with 
love shining in his honest blue eyes, was tak- 
ing her hand and saying how he had flown to 
his beloved lady the moment news of the count's 
departure reached him; and could she not for- 
get all the past as an unreal dream, and let 
him share whatever troubled her, were it Lady 
Beatrice's follies or Bertram's soul? and as the 
darkness gathered, his patient waitmg won its 
reward. Trixie, knowing her heart at last. 



248 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

kissed him as he drew her close within his lov- 
ing arms. 

It was Paul Herbert who had telegraphed to 
Harold the news of Trixie being free, and no 
one rejoiced more than he over his friend's hap- 
piness. 

Lady Ethel heard the news with a pang for 
her daughter, who, with pale face and quiver- 
ing lips, gently wished her cousin much joy. 
Alas I at life's high feasts the gods still claim a 
blameless victim ; the knife in Gertrude's breast 
Bank to the hilt, but she faced the altar lights 
without a murmur. 

The moment of parting had come. The duke 
being better, Bertram would meet the Saunders 
in LfOndon, and the entire party was to travel 
together. Lady Ethel, recovered from her in- 
disposition, was anxious to start. Billy and 
Robbie Saunders were already anticipating re- 
viving the glories of the "Roost," which 
Bertram had described to them. While Isabel 
read and reread her fiancSe^s last letter, she 
counted the moments imtil they could again 
realize the happy silence that envelops lovers 
at times when the heart seems too full for 
speech. 

Etoile could hardly believe that scarcely a 
week had elapsed since the night of her fit e, 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 349 

She had come down with her mother to spend 
an hour with the Saunders the morning after 
her retium from Nice, and there learned of 
Trixie's engagement to Harold. Paul Herbert, 
who joined them in Mrs. Saunders's sitting 
room^ sat apart a moment with Madame Mille- 
fleurs, urging her to see Trixie, but her mother's 
heart foreboded pain to the girPs proud spirit, 
and shrank from the task. Seeing her hesita- 
tion, and knowing that the next day would be 
too late, Paul decided to act on his own judg- 
ment. ^^ Trixie may live to regret a thousand 
times losing the opportunity of having a mother 
fold her in loving arms." And thus thinking, 
he sought Harold forthwith. Mrs. Saunders 
had gone to superintend some special packing 
and Isabel sat close to their guest, feeling un- 
utterably tender toward the beautiful but still 
to be unacknowledged mother of her beloved 
Bertie. Suddenly Trixie entered the room and 
walked straight across to where they were sit- 
ting. The dark eyes had lost the hard look 
which often marred their beauty and which, be- 
neath Harold's impassioned glances, was never 
harbored again. She laid a hand caressingly 
on Madame Millefleur's shoulder, who started 
and rose from her chair. 
"Mother," said Trixie, in a low Qweet voice, 



260 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

trembling with emotion, and Isabel, slipping 
away, knew that Trixie's pride had been van- 
quished by her love. 

It was a glorious night; Madame Millefleurs, 
Etoile and Paul Herbert sat on the loggia at 
the villa watching the shadows of the cypress 
in the starlight. The Mordaunts had returned 
that afternoon from an enchanting trip and 
Paul wae to leave for home on the morrow. 
The Laymans, Saunders, Trizie and Harold 
had already been gone a week. Letters had 
come from them, begging Madame Millefleurs 
to bring Etoile to the weddings of Isabel and 
Trixie, but the idea of returning to England 
awoke too many painful memories, and the girl 
was disappointed ; she longed to see her hand- 
some sister and brother again. 

^^They will come back, dearest; another 
winter we shall have them here," says her 
mother for consolation. 

Etoile sighed. ^^ Heaven would be on earth 
if we could but be near all we loved.'* 

^'Surely heaven seems sometimes here, when 
only with the one we love,*' suggests Paul. 

Etoile gazed dreamily across the stretch of 
olive trees and far away to the sea. **You 
will have a little heaven of your own then, for 
there will always be some one near to love you; 



A DUCAL SKELETON. 851 

are you not St. George the valiant, with the 
dragon beneath your feet?" 

Etoile had a trick of nicknaming her friends, 
and of late dubbed Paul, St. George, from his 
resemblance to a favorite picture of that saint. 

"I am afraid my dragon is hardly subdued 
yet." 

"You still have temptations to conquer; is 
what you mean?" 

"Who has not?" 

"You do not, then, divide the world into two 
cut and dried classes— the utterly bad, resist- 
ing no temptations, and the utterly good above 
temptations?" said Madame Millefleurs. 

"No, I generally think of people as belong- 
ing to four classes : 

The pure passionless, 

The pure passionate. 

The impure passionate. 

The impure passionless. 

To the first belong those predestined monks 
and nuns who are ascetic and spiritual ; to the 
second, the motherhood and fatherhood of crea- 
tion, the lovers pure of heart lost in each other; 
to the third belong the common herd, polluting 
society at large, and to the last, the small class 
of cold-booded sensualists who cleave to vice for 
the mere sake of viciousness." 



262 A DUCAL SKELETON. 

''The pure passionleeSy the pure passionate/' 
repeats Etoile, softly, to herself. 

''And who can say which is the higher of these 
two?" continues Paul, as if in answer to an un- 
expressed question. 

"My little girl belongs to the pure and pas- 
sionless," said Madame Millefleurs, drawing 
Etoile toward her. 

"While you, chdre mamany belong to the 
pure and passionate; I would rather be like 
you, dearest." 

The clock indoors struck 11. Paul slowly 
rose. 

"It is hard to say good-by, but it is late, and 
I have still much to do before leaving to- 
morrow morning." 

"And so the last of our new, yet dear, friends 
is going, away too." 

"Be assured, dear madame, the hours spent 
at Villa Millefleurs will not be forgotten." 

"And you have been so kind and helpful to 
us all, I shall never forget it; Qod bless you, 
dear friend." 

Paul raised Madame Millefleurs' fingers to 
his lips and then turned to Etoile : 

"Good-by till we meet again, little star, 
whose light brightens your mother's lifa Qod 
grant that the man be worthy upon whom your 
rays may fall.'* 



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